Rekindling
by WindeSprite
Summary: [complete] AU - Sango hasn't been involved in a serious relationship ever since high school graduation eight years ago when she and Miroku broke up. Then, one day by chance, she pushes her way into an elevator at work... Rated for language.
1. Rekindling

(A/N: this one-shot has been transformed into a three-part story. The story itself hasn't changed, it's just gotten longer. For those of you who have read _Rekindling_ already, move onto _Part II: Let You Go._ Arigato!)

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**Rekindling **

**_Part I _******

_I just can't get you outta my head; boy, it's more than I dare to think about._

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Sango raced down the office hallway, her briefcase bumping against her legs. The pearls against her neck were bouncing, and she was already regretting dressing up today. The pumps only clinched the matter. Classy pumps may look professional in an office, but they were by no means made for sprinting.

She crossed the glass walkway that connected the two high-rise towers situated in downtown Tokyo, trying to ignore the pounding of the rain and flash of lightning. What an absolute inconvenience. She maintained that her building must have been designed by a grad student. The parking garage for the set of high-rises was only accessible from the Tower B elevator. She worked in Tower A—and she had a business lunch in exactly fifteen minutes at a restaurant halfway across town that took at least half an hour to get to in the normal Tokyo business lunch hour—in a summer thunderstorm.

_God bless it. _

She was trying to cut down on her language ever since her boss told her that cursing wasn't lady-like. She was the youngest member of the company, and not to mention the newest. After her backbreaking years of high school, college, and graduate school, the last thing she needed was to lose this job.

The elevator was in sight now. And the doors were closing.

"Hold the doors!" she yelled at the occupants. The elevator was already packed, but tough. She could _not _afford to be late to this lunch meeting.

She squeezed through the doors, narrowly avoiding the gruesome fate of being squished. Believe it or not, she'd actually seen that happen to one of her co-workers. Numerous times.

Elevators were not for the rushed and impatient.

She gave a small smile of thanks to the man she'd just shoved against the wall in her haste to make the elevator. He gave her a fake smile back and immediately returned to his palm-pilot planner. The two women on the other side of her were carrying on a pretty heavy conversation about cheating, adultery, and whether Toshio should leave his wife for his little secretary Kimi… Sango tuned them out. Some people really had no concept of the word "tact." Or "private affairs."

She shifted uncomfortably. Being crunched inside a microscopic elevator wasn't anything new, but since she was cognizant of the gravity of her business lunch today, she'd taken extra care when dressing. Her normal work attire consisted of a khaki or navy skirt or pair of slacks, and a nice blouse. When she could get away with it, she wore a casual dress with her hair billowing down her back.

Today, she was stuck in a designer black skirt and blazer set that she'd found at a discount store. The suit looked as if it was tailored to fit her. The skirt was rather tight, with a slit in the back, the blazer accenting her figure nicely. With her sleeveless silk white blouse, pearls, and upswept hair-style, she looked more than professional.

Unfortunately, being professional has its drawbacks. The suit was 98% polyester and 2% cotton (why even bother putting the cotton on the label, she wondered) and she was—to use one of her co-workers expression's—sweating like a man in a baboon suit.

Inuyasha always did have an odd personality. She couldn't really understand what Kagome saw in him.

The elevator dinged to the seventh level and most of the occupants of the elevator flooded out. Sango smiled slightly at the sign posted on the wall so that no elevator riders could miss it: CAFÉ, COFFEE SHOP, SALAD BAR.

The sixth level dinged. More people exited. Sango could breathe a little easier now that she wasn't crammed between bodies. The gossipy women moved on to cutest co-worker couples. Sango listened for a minute, then tuned them out. Apparently they didn't know Kohaku and Rin.

The fifth floor dinged. Sango let out a sigh of relief as the rest of the occupants, save on, walked out. The doors closed and she allowed herself to rest against the wall of the elevator. She watched the numbers on the semi-circle above the doors illuminate with each floor. _Four…three…two—_

The lights suddenly flickered, and the elevator came to a jarring halt. Sango was thrown backwards, and banged her head on the wall. "Ack…God bless it."

"Interesting choice of words."

Sango started in surprise and turned to look at the man which the voice emanated—

And froze.

Casually leaning against the wall was none other than Hamaguchi Miroku.

_Oh…damn…_

.

.

He looked ever the rogue with his longish hair and sunglasses. Paired with his impeccably tailored Armani suit, designer shoes, and Versace necktie, he looked like a savvy, irresistible businessman. He'd done well for himself.

She wouldn't admit it to anyone, even under the threat of death, but she'd followed his progress over the years. American _Newsweek_ articles and Japanese business magazine raved about the brilliant young businessman that suddenly appeared in the Tokyo business market. She'd read all of his articles, even watched his interview on the local news channel. The city couldn't get enough of the newest business world celebrity.

He was getting along fine without her.

She refused to acknowledge the correlation between news about Miroku and her migraines. For some strange reason, she always ended up taking aspirin or a sedative after reading a new article or seeing his face plastered on a magazine sitting in a grocery store rack.

It shouldn't have hurt that much, but it did. He probably didn't even remember her, whereas she thought of him at least every other week.

Eight years, dammit, and she still couldn't get him out of her head.

She earned herself a nice living. Living in one of the wealthier middle-class apartment complexes attested to that fact. But despite her financial success, she was still single and lonely. Sure, she had friends. Best friends. Two of which who were already engaged. But that was different. She hadn't been involved in a serious relationship for a couple of years now. Come to think of it, she hadn't been on a date in almost six months

God, that was pitiful.

It wasn't as thought she hadn't _tried _to find someone else, hadn't tried to fall in love. She just couldn't. No one could measure up to Miroku.

And now what was she supposed to do? she thought, jerking out of her musings. How was she supposed to respond? What could one say to a person who hadn't shown his face to her in eight years, then suddenly appeared in an elevator in her office building?

Fate—or God—or whatever—certainly had an odd sense of humor.

.

.

"It's actually my friend's creation," Sango found herself saying. She hated how her voice shook. "She's from the States and has an overdose of creativity. When my boss told me to cut back on the cursing, she thought up this phrase for me." What was she doing, rambling like that? _Shut up, you idiot! _

"Interesting," Miroku said, his face inscrutable from behind his sunglasses. His jerked his head towards the closed doors. "Looks like we're stuck in here, ne?"

"Unfortunately."

"Why so pessimistic? You're stuck in an elevator with a handsome, eligible bachelor. Most ladies would be thrilled."

She shot him a look and glowered. Yup, same old Miroku. He hadn't changed a bit.

"Allow me to introduce myself. I'm Hamaguchi Miroku."

She started even more violently than when the elevator stopped. He was smiling in that familiar way, executing in that oh-so-suave stance: right knee bent, weight on his left hip, left arm on his hip, right hand in his pocket. Classic Miroku pose.

Her heart felt like it was tearing in half. _He really doesn't remember me?_

So she looked different—her hair was up; she'd grown a bit; her face had matured into that of an adult, not an adolescent girl; she was in a business suit, not her school uniform or typical weekend outfit: a tight spaghetti-strap top and a long, flowing skirt. Her mother, who had grown up in the States called her a Bohemian. Her father, who had grown up in Japan, but had friends who lived in the US, called her a hippie. She neither understood nor heeded either comment.

But really, she hadn't changed _that_ much. The truth hit her hard. Her hopes and fantasies of the past years had just shattered—he didn't remember her.

Her breathing became more irregular. Now, what was she going to do about _this?_ Give her name, she'd embarrass them both. Refuse to give her name, and raise suspicions.

She finally opted with a third choice: elusiveness. "What happened to the elevator? Did the storm hit a circuit?"

Miroku's stance stiffened slightly. She had to cover a smile. Retribution felt good. Miroku could never stand being rejected by a woman. Next would come the charm—laid on extra thick, because she had a nice body.

"Probably," he said, sauntering—he never merely _walked_—over to her side of the elevator. "This happens a lot, actually. Circuit was hit twice last week—I was stuck in this elevator both times. But never with a woman such as yourself before." He smiled charmingly.

"You didn't have to introduce yourself," she blurted. "I recognize you from the magazine articles." _Oh, nice diversion tactic, Sango. Boost his ego more. Very smooth._

"You have?" he said, sounding rather uncomfortable. "Oh."

Something was up. Miroku was _never _uncomfortable—especially around women. What was his problem?

"What's the matter?"

"Why, nothing!" The charming smile was back. "What do _you _do, Miss…?"

She didn't fill in the blank. "I work for the Tokyo Shimbun."

His cool exterior faltered a bit. "You're a reporter?" He took a few steps backwards.

She laughed at his expense. She rather liked being invisible to him—in a way. It allowed her to see more of him than she would if she was just Sango again. "Not hardly. I'm a translator."

"Are you really?" He sounded both relieved and delighted. "What languages do you speak?"

"Just Japanese and Korean. Some Chinese. My English is pretty much stopped at a high school level." _You should know that. Don't you remember the millions of hours you spent helping me with my English homework? _

He laughed a bit. "I once knew a woman who wanted to be a translator."

Her heart felt like it momentarily stopped. Was he talking about her? "What happened to her?"

"Interesting that you should ask," he said, his voice revealing nothing. "I don't know. We lost touch after high school graduation."

_A diplomatic way of putting it.__ Talk about downplaying. _"Oh."

"But she's not important." He smiled again, showing off his perfect white teeth. "Tell me more about yourself."

Sango simmered, her gaze narrowing. _Not important, huh? Well, I guess we both know where I stand. _"There's not much to tell." She scooted farther away from him, retreating into a corner.

"Don't be so modest," he said, coming closer. "It doesn't look as if we're going to get out of here any time soon. May as well make the most of our time."

_This is a scene worthy of Shakespeare. He would have had a field day with this situation. _

"Why were you so disappointed when you found out I knew you?" she asked, desperate for anything to distract him. If he didn't have sunglasses on, she was sure he would have that mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Who said I was disappointed?" he answered glibly.

"I am fairly adept at reading people. Don't try to pull that innocent act over me."

He shrugged. "It's not a big deal."

"Of course it is." _There he goes, downplaying again. _

His eyebrows rose. "You sound pretty sure of yourself."

"I told you—"

"Yes, you're adept at reading people." He leaned against the wall of the elevator, crossing his arms. "Well, Miss Persistent, if you must know, it bothers me when I meet a person for the first time and they already know lots about me—and usually have an opinion of me—when I know nothing about them." He shrugged slightly. "I feel at a disadvantage."

Sango was quiet. So he _had_ changed. The Miroku she knew didn't care what anyone thought about him. It looked as if his self-assured attitude was just a façade. She smiled slightly. Looks as if the mighty Hamaguchi Miroku had a weakness after all. _Who would'a thunk it?_ she added humorously.

"Now, Miss, you have done an admirable job of not revealing your name," he said, coming closer to her. "Are you normally this shy?"

She gulped, shoving herself farther into the corner. "N-not usually." She prayed for the elevator to start working again.

"What's the matter? Do I scare you?"

"_Scare_ me?" she barked, laughing. "That's a good one." He was too close to the truth.

He pushed his sunglasses up on top of his head, revealing those rare indigo eyes that she so well remembered. Her breath caught in her throat. She only hoped that her foundation was covering her blush. She normally didn't wear make-up, save for eyeliner, but today she thanked the gods that today she had.

A puzzled look came across his face. "You look…familiar. Have we met before?"

Anger bubbled up inside of her. Was she really such a dismissible part of his life? Something so easily forgotten? _You bastard.__ Kagome was right about you. _"No, I don't believe so," she said, her words clipped. She shoved him away from her and stalked to the other side of the elevator.

The expression on his face was almost comical. "Miss?" he said. "Is something that matter? Have I offended you somehow?"

"Nothing's the matter." She turned her back towards him, her arms crossed.

"That's a lie if I ever heard one." He started towards her, and she quickly turned away, determined to keep her back to him.

She didn't expect him to grab her by the shoulders and turn her around. Her hair, which was precariously held up by two chopsticks, suddenly fell, the chopsticks clattering to the ground and her hair cascading down her back.

"Look, if you don't tell me what's the matter, there's no way I'll be able to—help…you…" His eyes widened and his gaze riveted on her hair.

_Oh no… _She turned her face away, quite aware of the blush that tinged her cheeks.

When silence prevailed for over a minute, she gathered up her courage and stole a glance at Miroku. He was staring at her face, looking incredulous, stunned, confused…hurt?

His hand moved upwards and he gently laid his hand against her cheek. "Sango?" he breathed, as if afraid to utter her name aloud.

She sucked in a breath. She'd missed his touch—the feel of his hand against her skin. Their first kiss had started like this—him holding her face in his hands. Somewhere in the back of her head, her mother's voice echoed, _"Men are more affected by sight; women, by touch."_

Sango could more than attest to this fact.

Much as she would have loved to stay in that position, she couldn't dismiss the past. He'd made his decisions. She had to make hers. Sango pushed his hand away. "Took you long enough…Miroku."

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.

"Took you long enough…Miroku."

He nearly stopped breathing. Sango! It was Sango! His first love, who he'd dated the last year of high school. And then…well, he'd made the stupidest decision of his life. But what could he say? He was young, idiotic, and a lecher. He wouldn't deny it. The day before their senior dance—their school's equivalent to an American prom—she'd caught him in the courtyard, kissing another girl.

The look on her face had nearly killed him. It ripped his heart in two ragged pieces. He'd all but shoved the girl he'd been dared to kiss away, and ran after Sango. Being the track star that she was, it had taken him a minute or two to catch up with her.

_"Sango!" he shouted, a pit forming in his stomach. "Sango, wait!"_

_ "Go away, Miroku!" she yelled back over her shoulder. _

_ "Sango!" He caught up to her and tackled her to the ground, right there in art hallway. Luckily, it was lunch and the hallway was mainly deserted. She struggled, trying to get out from underneath him, but he kept her pinned down. "Sango. Listen to me."_

_ "Why should I?" she said, her voice ragged. She wouldn't look at him. "Miroku, I can't do it anymore. I can't. I've tried to dismiss your habit for groping other women, and your tendency to flirt with pretty girls—but this—I just can't…forgive you."_

_ He'd dug himself into a hole—a hundred-foot deep hole. "Why didn't you tell me those things bothered you? I would have stopped if you'd asked me!"_

_ "You should have known not to!" she yelled, finally meeting his eyes. He winced, feeling like a heel. She was crying. "Did you ever stop to think how I felt watching you flirt with other girls? Or grope them? I wanted to believe that you were mine—only mine…but I guess that was too much to hope for."_

_ "Stop it, Sango!" God, now he really felt awful. "I'm sorry. I am. I'm sorry. You know my personality. I just—I didn't think it would bother you. I love you, you know that. I've told you that so many times—"_

_ "Yeah, well, talk is cheap," she said bitterly, shamelessly wiping away her tears. "Let me up, Miroku."_

_"Not until you listen to me."_

_"I can hear you just as well standing, hentai." _

_Hope soared up within him at her familiar nickname. Perhaps it wasn't all lost. He smiled at her and helped her to her feet. She smiled back, waveringly…but that smile soon disappeared. "Miroku. I can't trust you anymore."_

_"Sango, I'm sorry," he said earnestly. "It was a dare—a stupid dare. One of the guys told me I'd get twenty bucks if I got Suzu to kiss me—" He stopped short. Sango was crying again. "What—"_

_"Miroku, I don't understand you," she said, the tears flowing readily now. "Did you ever stop to consider how Suzu would feel if she realized you kissed her on a lark? How can you say you love me if you're willing to kiss another woman? Many other women?" She was crying harder now. "I knew it was too good to be true." He barely caught her last whisper._

_"Sango, stop it! You know that's not true. I do love you—I just…just…"_

_"Don't love me enough to commit? It's a good thing we're not married. I don't think I could stand it if I caught you cheating on me after marriage vows." _

_"Hey, now," he said, frowning. "That's a little harsh."_

_"You," she gritted, "have no business saying that." She ripped her hand, which he'd never let go after he'd helped her up, out of his. "You can just go ask one of your many flings to go to prom with you. I'm not that good at acting."_

_"Sango, you're overreacting."_

_"No, I'm not." She just sounded tired now. "I'm saving myself from being even more hurt in the future." _

_Then she walked away._

::

Things had been extremely strained between them that last month of school. Miroku ended up going to the dance with a girl in his history class and ignoring her the entire time. Sango hadn't gone at all. Kagome had never forgiven him for what he'd done, although they had kept in touch over the years with an occasional call at major holidays. Sango, on the other hand, he hadn't heard from since they graduated. After the commencement ceremony, they had exchanged "congratulations" and hugged stiffly.

And now, eight years later…

He was staring into the same tear-filled eyes and hurt face. He hadn't recognized her. He knew that hurt her, but in truth, it didn't really surprise him. He'd done everything he could to forget her after they'd parted. He didn't even know what had happened to all those pictures of her he'd had on his bedroom wall. Maybe Kagome had them now.

It was her hair that had triggered the memory. That beautiful, long hair… and those eyes…

He hadn't forgotten her. Not really. Maybe he'd pushed her image out of his head… but he remembered everything about her. Everything. It seemed ridiculous to say such a thing—but he was still in love with her.

His dad had told him to get over her. _"She's just one girl, Miroku. There are plenty of other girls out there. How many people do you know that actually marry their high school sweethearts?" _

Miroku had tried to convince himself that he was over her, that he didn't care what happened to Sango. But he unconsciously had started comparing every date he'd ever had to that fiery—yet sweet—girl he'd dated back in high school.

"Sango…"

She suddenly smiled and blinked away her tears. "Good to see you again, Miroku."

He blinked. What was this?

"It's been a long time…"

_Stop the clichés already_, he begged in his mind. He ached to touch her again, and he longed to tell her the truth…that he still loved her…

"You know, I've followed your progress over the years. You've done quite well."

"Sango," he said warningly. "Stop it. Whatever you're doing—stop it."

"Stop what, Miroku? Talking to you? Gladly." She stalked over to the other side of the elevator and stared resolutely at the wall.

He sighed. She always had been stubborn—and prone to ignore him when she got all in a huff.

A sly grin crept across his face as he recalled a memory from the past. What was the best way to get a mad Sango out of her funk?

Fluster her, of course.

.

.

.

"Sango," Miroku said in that "warning" voice of his, "stop it. Whatever you're doing—stop it."

Fat chance. Why was she getting all emotional in the first place? It wasn't as if she meant anything to him. He hadn't even remembered her. _Time to wake up to reality, Sango.__ Face the facts. Now put on your business face and stop acting like a blubbering, lovesick fool. _"Stop what, Miroku? Talking to you? Gladly."

She retreated to the far side of the elevator. Running away—something she was quite proficient at. She'd run away from Miroku the first time he'd flirted with her—a smile flitted across her face at the memory—she'd run away from him the first time she caught him groping another girl—and finally, she'd run away from him that last month of their senior year. For eight years, that time.

How long would this flight last?

She looked down and drew a design in the carpet of the elevator with the tip of her black pump. Stuck in an elevator with the man she's loved—and left—all those years ago. This was trashy-romance-novel-worthy.

Her face flamed at the thought. _Bad thoughts, Sango, bad thoughts.__ You two are way past those days. Eight years past it, in fact. _

She frowned, realizing her strong emphasis on time. It hadn't really made a difference. Two years, five years, eight years—at the end of each twelve-month period, she was still in love with Miroku. Would it take _another _eight years to get over him?

Sango recalled that old cliché: "absence makes the heart grow fonder."

No kiddin'.

Sango jumped when she suddenly felt warm hands entrench themselves in hair. "_Miroku_!" she shrieked. "What are you doing?!"

"Fixing your hair," came the reply. "It was done so nicely before, I thought it would be a shame to not reassemble it. And lord knows you can't do your hair on your own."

She pulled her hair out from his grasp and whirled around to face him, glaring daggers at the man who was currently twiddling her chopsticks between his fingers. "How would you know?" she snapped.

He raised a brow. "You've forgotten all those mornings you made me fix your hair in a certain style because you couldn't?"

"How do you know I'm still like that?" she challenged. "I could have changed. A lot can happen in eight years."

He winked. "I notice you used the phrase 'could have changed.' I'd bet my bank account that your neighbor did your hair this morning."

Sango glowered. She never could bring herself to lie to him.

"So," he said conversationally, spinning her around again. "Let's put your pretty hair back where it belongs, shall we?"

"No," she muttered mutinously, although his touch was disconcerting her. She always became drowsy when he played with her hair… Back in their senior Japanese History class, when the professor would drone on and on, Miroku, who sat behind Sango, would reach forward and play with her hair—be it braiding, brushing, or simply running hands through it—which inevitably caused her to fall into a dreamy, trance-like state… at which the professor would always, _always _ask her a question, startling Sango out of her reverie, with no earthly idea what was happening, much to the amusement of her troublemaking boyfriend.

She jerked out of her thoughts when he hit a snarl. "Ouch!"

"Sorry," he murmured, entirely focused on her hair.

Her cheeks were undoubtedly red by now. How was it that she hadn't seen hide nor hair of him for so long…and then out of the blue here he was, playing with her hair again, just like old times?

A frown slowly replaced her peaceful smile. What was she _doing_?! Was Miroku bent on seducing her—for memory's sake? She had to get out of this elevator before—before—

"There! All done!" Miroku announced proudly. "Looks as if I've still got it."

"Lots of practice on past girlfriends, huh?" she said bitingly.

"Girl_friend_," said Miroku quietly.

"My mistake. They could all do their _own _hair and didn't require your assistance."

"Sango." His voice went a notch deeper. "Are you always so bitter?"

That stung. She was glad her back was still to him. "No," she mumbled truthfully. "Believe it or not, I was voted 'most mellow' in this year's Nutty New Year office awards."

"I believe it."

"You just seem to bring out the worst in me," she added with a little laugh. "…And the best," she said under her breath.

"What was that?"

"Nothing important."

Impasse.

Miroku leaned against the wall of the stopped elevator. "So do you always get this dressed up for work?"

"No," she answered, following his lead and using the wall to support herself, "it's just today I had a—" Her eyes grew wide and she shoved off against the wall as if it had burned her. "Oh, _no!_"

"Sango?"

"Oh no oh no oh no…" She glanced at her watch. 12:45. She was already fifteen minutes late. "Oh no…" She slid down to the floor and dropped her head back against the wall, causing Miroku's fine work to come undone. "Oh, lord, could this day get any worse?"

Miroku slid down beside her. "What's the matter?" he asked in concern.

Her head still back and her eyes still closed, she answered in a monotone: "I had a lunch meeting with the editor and director of translators that was scheduled fifteen minutes ago. We were going to discuss the future of my career with the paper."

"I'm sorry," he murmured futilely. "I wish I had more words to comfort you…"

"It's okay. I just need someone who will put up with me while I wallow in pity."

"That I can do."

"Do you have much of a choice?"

"Not really."

The two of them laughed, although it wasn't really that funny of a statement.

"Sango, are you—" Miroku stopped, and shook his bangs out of his eyes. Sango raised a brow; that motion was a sure sign he was uncomfortable about something.

"Yes?"

"Are you—dating anyone?"

_I knew this would come up sometime. _May as well tell him the truth—he'd find out anyway. "No. I haven't dated in almost six months now."

"How come?"

She understood his unspoken question. _"Was it because of me?" _

"No, it wasn't because of you. I was involved in a pretty series relationship a few years ago—a man I'd met at a convention. We were dating for about a year when he left me for another women." She was silent for a moment. "Actually…maybe it was because of you. And him. I've been abandoned twice now—I guess I just didn't want it to happen again." She looked up at his face. "Don't look so guilty, Miroku. It's all a part of life. I haven't dated because I'm paranoid now. But when I actually get up the courage to date someone else… I know it'll be because I have total faith in them."

She smiled softly. "I guess I have you to thank, then. I'm more cautious because of you."

He laughed humorlessly. "That's a great thing to be remembered for."

"What about you, Miroku? An eye for an eye—you owe me the summary of you love life." She paused then added, "Though make it the CliffNotes version."

He gave her a look. "Just what are you implying?"

"You know what I'm talking about, Houshi." The nickname slipped and her cheeks grew hot again. It had been the running joke in their high school class; sort of like a paradoxical joke: Miroku was so corrupt that he was called one by the title of a pure man.

"Actually, I don't," he said, cracking her a grin. "Are you insinuating that I have so many stories to tell, I'd better cut it short? Or are you saying that you want me to cut out all the X-rated content?"

She rolled her eyes. "We're both adults now, Miroku. You can tell me whatever you want. It was meant as a joke."

He kept a straight face, but his eyes were laughing. "Little Miss Innocent's grown up, hmm?"

She tried hard not to laugh, but didn't quite succeed. "You make it sound so dirty."

"Well, of course, if you want to fill in the blanks—"

"Miroku! Just tell your dang story!"

"Yes, Mommy." He shifted so his focus was on the elevator buttons. "After we…well, lost touch, I was really lost. I mean really lost, Sango. It was hard not having you constantly by my side, to laugh with, see boring movies with, or to camp out in a 24-hour Wal-Mart with—"

Sango burst into a fit of giggles. "I'd forgotten about that."

"We slept in the couch section, remember?"

"As if I could forget. That one mother reported us to the manager, claiming we were acting inappropriate."

"Stupid woman. We were just sleeping."

"In each other's arms."

"Hey, we were fully clothed. What more did she want?"

Sango playfully hit him on the arm. "Pervert."

"Excuse me? It was _your _idea. I was fine with staying up thirty hours and then going to school—but no, you had to get some sleep. And absolutely," he mimicked, "_not _on the floor."

"You—you—male," said Sango, not able to think of a more creative insult.

Miroku winked at her.

Then, as it usually happens, the past faded away and the present time caught up with them and they both looked away in discomfort.

"Anyhow," continued Miroku, "I was restless. I wanted to get out of Tokyo and see the world. So I went to college in the States."

Sango looked up. This part she hadn't heard. "So that's where you disappeared to."

"You noticed I was gone?"

"Your mom called me to baby-sit your younger brother one day. I almost canceled, because the thought of seeing you again almost made me sick… but I went anyway, only to find that you weren't even in town any more."

"You stayed in Tokyo after graduation?"

"I went to a community college for undergrad, and miraculously managed to get into Tokyo U for grad school. I was amazed."

"I'm not. You were one of the smartest people I'd ever met. Actually," he corrected, "you _are _one of the smartest people I've ever met."

She flushed. "Well, thanks—but your opinion is probably a little skewed, considering its completely based on the person I was eight years ago."

"I doubt you've changed much. Maybe you've become even smarter, but you've certainly not regressed."

She looked away again, this time in embarrassed pleasure. "Well, thanks."

"Welcome."

There was a moment of silence. Sango prompted, "So what happened next?"

"Hm?" Miroku was deep in thought. "Oh. Right. Well, I got a bachelor's degree in business, with a minor in international studies, and a major in the same thing. I worked over in San Francisco for a year, then moved back to Tokyo. I've been here ever since."

"You have effectively _not _told me what I wanted to know."

His brow furrowed. "What was the question again…? Oh, right—my love life. Well, I didn't date at all my freshman year—which is really surprising. I guess I was still getting over you. Sophomore year, though, something inside me snapped and I went crazy. A new girlfriend pretty much every week or two… you know how it goes. Pretty soon, every girl in the college knew I was the school playboy, and at least seventy-five percent of them could personally attest to this." He shrugged.

Sango was quiet for a moment. "Did you ever fall in love?"

He took a minute to answer. "Once. Senior year." He laughed a little. "I must have an affinity for that particular year." A pause. "Her name was Maria Giovanni. She was—well, _is_ I guess, seeing as she's still alive—from Italy. _Italiana__._I picked up a lot of Italian that year, just from hanging around her." He briefly glanced at Sango, then looked away again. "We were even engaged for a while."

"What happened?" Sango managed to say. It was stupid of her to be jealous, but there it was. Lucky girl. Sango couldn't even keep Miroku focused on her alone, but Maria had been engaged to him. Unless she didn't know about Miroku's cheating. Or…unless he _hadn't _cheated. Sango honestly couldn't rule out either decision. It had been so long since she'd known him…really known him.

"I broke it off."

Sango's voice hitched in her throat. Now she felt sorry for the woman. She was happy, and she was sorry. How love twisted a person's rationality. "How come?"

He shrugged, still not looking at her. "I wasn't ready for that big of a commitment. I was scared. 'What the hell is love?' and all that. I didn't want to make an irrevocable mistake."

"Irrevocable? Hardly. Do you know the percentage of divorce nowadays?"

He looked at her now, violet meeting mahogany. "Divorce isn't honorable."

She steadily stared back at him. _Neither is cheating._

He broke eye contact. "When I make a vow, I intend to keep it. Besides…I'd already hurt too many women. I didn't want to hurt another."

"You call breaking your engagement not hurting her?"

"It would hurt worse if I left her after we were married. She's probably over me by now."

"Don't be so sure," Sango murmured, fiddling with a strand of hair.

Miroku didn't comment on her response. He glanced at his watch.

"What time is it now?" asked Sango.

"Quarter after one."

"We've been in here for half an hour?" she clarified disbelievingly.

"Looks that way."

Sango was getting worried now. "Does maintenance even know we're stuck in here?"

Miroku shrugged. "Can't say."

Sango sighed. "Watch us get roped into another all-night escapade."

"Yeah."

Something suddenly struck Sango's memory. "Miroku?"

"Hmm?"

"You came back to Tokyo two years ago?"

"Mmm-hm."

"Have you always worked in this building?"

"Since the day I arrived."

"I've worked here for four years now."

Miroku voiced what she was thinking. "So we've worked in the some complex for two years and never once ran into each other." He smiled ironically. "Amazing how things work out, hm? Oh well. At least this was a more dramatic meeting than just spotting each other across the main floor."

"But you didn't recognize me, remember? So that wouldn't have worked. I'd have recognized you and—" she cut off.

Miroku looked at her expectantly. "And…?"

"Never mind."

"'Never mind,' huh? Well we know what to do about evasive answers like that, now, don't we?"

It took a moment for the memory to trigger. "Y-you wouldn't dare!" She scrambled away from him—or as best she could in a tight skirt. "Hamaguchi Miroku, you stay away from me!"

He had that evil grin on his face as he got to his feet. "Now, Sango, you know the punishment for evading."

"Those rules hardly apply. We stopped dating years ago."

"So?"

"So I could turn you in for sexual harassment."

He laughed. "Since when has tickling been classified as sexual harassment?"

.

.

They were now in opposite corners of the elevator, Miroku ready to pounce, Sango pressed against the wall. "You just stay over there, Houshi-sama."

"I'm sorry, Lady Sango," he sighed. "But I have never been one to let a crime go unpunished."

"You evaded _my_ question earlier!"

"You snooze you lose."

"Cheater."

Sango blurted the word without thought, but the double meaning struck both of them at the same time. Biting her lip, Sango looked down at the ground. Miroku frowned and relaxed his stance a bit.

But then darted across the elevator, hands in front of him.

Sango shrieked and tried to protect herself with her arms. "N-no, Miroku! S-stop!" She was laughing from his ministrations now. "Please!"

"Not until you say the magic words!" he said in a sing-song way.

She scowled. "You can't make me." It was hard to try and be stern while laughing.

Miroku was laughing now, too, at her expense. "I won't stop until you say it."

"Forget it!"

She lasted exactly ten more seconds. "I p-promise to love you forever and ever—" Miroku's tickling receded, as did her giggles—"and ever—"

"And ever and ever," they finished together, quietly.

Then they sighed in unison.

"We had some fun times together, didn't we?" Miroku said.

"Yeah…"

Miroku opened his arms. "For old time's sake?"

Sango gave him a look. "Miroku."

"Sango."

"Be reasonable. You can't—"

He ignored her voice of reason and tugged her into his arms.

"Miroku—" she protested.

"Hush. You can't tell me you don't hug your friends."

"My friends don't have a history like us," she whispered.

He didn't answer. He silently held her for a few more moments, then released her.

She looked up at him and gave him a small smile.

He smiled back.

.

.

Eventually, the maintenance men realized that all the elevators in the building had broken down, and manually pulled some wires to make them start running again. Sango and Miroku, as well as a few other workers who were stuck in the second elevator exited exactly one hour after they'd entered.

Miroku walked Sango to the entrance of the building, although they had to stop on the way, because Sango's cell phone was ringing. Apparently, her superiors had tried to call her three times before, but, naturally, the elevator didn't provide service. She explained why she missed her meeting, and knowing the dire condition of the elevators, her superiors forgave her and rescheduled the meeting for another day.

Relieved, Sango snapped her cell phone shut and tucked it back into her briefcase.

Silence prevailed yet again.

They were standing in the middle of the lobby, heedless of the late lunch stragglers rushing through the doors and those who took the afternoons off running for the parking lot.

"Well…" Sango said awkwardly, tapping the toe of her pump against the shiny tile floor. "I guess…I'll see you around?"

"Of course. We do work in the same building after all."

Silence again.

"Well…bye, then," she said softly. With that, she turned and walked towards the doors, half hoping Miroku would call her name, or run after her to stop her.

She pushed the rotating glass door around and walked into the parking lot.

A few tears of regret came, but she resolutely wiped them away. It just wasn't meant to be. They'd both changed too much. And what did she expect? Miroku dashing after her, proclaiming his love?

_This isn't a romance novel, after all_, she reminded herself. _Romance novels are required to have happy endings. Otherwise, they'd be labeled as tragedies._

_ Or realistic. _

Smiling a bit at her own joke, she looked for her car, hidden deep within the rows of other vehicles. She finally spotted the black Toyota corolla and pushed the little button on her key ring that opened her car doors automatically. The lights flashed and she opened the door.

Then her cell phone rang.

She jumped, her hand flying to her chest. Then she laughed at herself, shaking her head. It had startled her out of her deep thoughts. _And I admit that I was hoping to hear Miroku's voice rather than the jangle of my ring tone._ She flipped her phone open, frowning at the unknown number. "Hello?"

"Sango?"

She jumped again, this time from shock. "Miroku?" she said incredulously.

"Hello there." He sounded amused.

She clenched and unclenched her free hand, trying to quell the shaking. _Is this the modern version of a fairy tale? _she couldn't help but wonder. "How did you get my number?"

"Your boss is my best friend. I recognized his rather distinctive voice over the phone. He owed me a favor anyhow."

"You know Inuyasha?" she yelped.

"Sure. We were roommates back at UCLA."

She slumped against her car. Too many surprises for one day… "He never mentioned you."

"He didn't mention you either, the dog. Although…I never did tell him your name. He always was a little dense and probably never connected the dots."

"Probably." Sango smiled. "So…um, did you have a reason for calling me?"

"Did I ever need a reason before?"

"Miroku…"

"Okay, yes, I had a reason. Actually…I was just thinking—well…only if you want to, but—would you like to go out to dinner tonight?"

A huge grin replaced the smile on Sango's face. _Never_,she vowed, _will I laugh at fairy tales again._ "Miroku," she said, "I would _love _to go to dinner tonight."

::

::

Well? What did you all think? This idea just popped into my head (oddly enough, it's storming right now…lol) and I decided to try it out. Please, please, review and tell me what you thought. I'm not a mind reader! Anyhow, I had fun writing this, hoped you all had fun reading it. I'm at the beach now, on a computer at the library, but I will try and update Charade or Guilty As Charged while I'm here. The quote at the beginning is from a Kylie Minouge song.

Oh, and the phrase "God bless it" is compliments of my friend, LDP.

Review, onegai!


	2. Let You Go

**_Rekindling_**

**_Part II_**

.

**Let You Go**

.

_I was happy just to be able to see you_

_I reminisce about our memories. _

_Although I waver and hold on to the past_

_I gotta let you go, I gotta let you go  
As I still see your clear image my heart only longs for you_

_Inside my heart, you slowly fade away_

_I gotta let you go, I gotta let you go._

_._

.

.

"Oh my god," Sango groaned aloud, flopping onto her bed, dressed in nothing but her bra and underwear. "What am I doing? I must be crazy." She reached a hand over to the nightstand and felt around for her cell phone. "I need major help," she muttered, speed-dialing Kagome's number. She lifted the phone to her ear and closed her eyes, waiting for Kagome to pick up.

On the seventh ring, just as Sango was about to hang up, a slightly-out-of-breath male answered the phone. "Hello?" he said, wheezing.

"Inuyasha?" Sango said in amusement. "Sorry, I was trying to reach Kagome. I didn't mean to interrupt anything…"

"Shut up. Kagome's right here…um…hang on a sec—" it sounded like he was pressing his hand over the receiver of the phone. _"Hey, bitch, get over here!"_

_ "Don't call me that!" _Kagome's voice could be heard in the background._ "And what are you doing answering my phone, anyway?"_

_ "It was ringing and you weren't answering it!"_

_ "Did it ever occur to you that I might have had a reason for not answering?" _she huffed. Her voice was clearer now._ "Don't even think about it, mister," _she said in a warning tone.There was rustling and jostling and then Kagome's voice came over clear. "Hello?"

"What were you two doing?"

"Playing tag," Kagome said innocently. "Sorry for not answering right away—I was on base, and if I got off, Inuyasha would have pounced me, and then I would have been it, and lord knows how hard it is to catch him."

"Uh huh." Sango smiled. "Just plain tag? Or was it strip tag?"

"_Sango!_" shrieked Kagome. "I cannot believe you just said that! You sounded like Miroku—" she stopped. "Aw, crap. I just said a 'no-no' word, didn't I? Sorry." She sighed. "So what's up?"

"I need help."

"With what?"

"_Were_ you playing strip tag?"

"God, no! I don't even think that game exists."

"Of course it does. I think Miroku invented it."

"Heh, why doesn't that surprise me. And don't change the subject, why did you call? Wait—hang on—" the receiver was covered again_—"What do you _want_, Inuyasha?...important? Can't it wait till I'm finished with this phone call?...so use a post-it! That's what they're for!" _She came back to the phone again. "Sorry, Inuyasha claimed he had something important to tell me and threatened me with his failing memory. Men," she scoffed. "So anyway, Sango-chan, you needed something?"

"Yeah. A favor."

"Sure. What kind?"

"I need to find something to wear tonight. Something special. Something that we can find in less than two hours."

"Hot date?"

"Erm…" Sango twisted a strand of hair around her finger. "Sorta…"

"Whaaat? Are you serious? I was kidding, but spill all!"

"Heh heh, well it's actually a pretty funny story… I'm not sure you'll believe it…"

"Come on, tell me! Who is he? Is he from work?"

"Um…in a way…"

"Ohhh, this'll be fun. Okay—Kuranosuke?"

"Ugh, no! That man is sickeningly sweet."

"Sort of like Hojo?" Kagome said, giggling. Inuyasha could be heard yelling in the background: _"Hobo?! What about him? What are you talking about, Kagome?!"_

"Someone's jealous," Sango chuckled.

"Oh, it's good for him. It'll probably buy me dinner tonight, anyhow." The two women laughed together. "Um…Koga?"

"Oh, yeah right. Come on, Kagome, he's still hung up on you."

"Well, you never know…" _"Dammit, woman, what are you guys talking about? What about that stupid wolf?" _

"Wolf?"

"Yeah, Inuyasha came up with this weird analogy that Koga licks his chops like a rabid wolf every time I come in sight." Kagome sighed. "I'm all out of guesses, Sango. I mean, it can't be Sesshomaru—" _"Sesshomaru? What the hell are you two talking about?!"_—"or—oh god—please, not Naraku?"

"…Please…_please_ tell me you're joking."

"Oh good. I don't know—just tell me!"

Sango was suddenly regretting calling Kagome. She should have just gone out and bought something on her own. Or borrowed something from her neighbor. "What's that noise?" she said, grasping at any change of subject.

"Huh? Oh, it's Inuyasha's cell phone. He has the most annoying ring tone I've ever heard. Stop dodging the question: who is it?"

"Well, it's um…it's your boyfriend's best friend."

"Inuyasha's?"

"How many boyfriends do you have?" teased Sango.

"Oh hush. Just—I don't think Inuyasha _has _a best friend…do you, Inuyasha?" There was mumbling in the background. "He says his best friend is—um—the 'M' word. That doesn't work. I need a better clue, Sango."

"You just figured it out."

…

Kagome laughed. "You're joking, right? _Miroku?_ Last I'd heard, you hadn't seen him in eight years. Very funny, Sango. You probably didn't even know he's back in Tokyo."

"Oh, I know all right. I was stuck in an elevator with him for an hour."

There was a very pregnant pause on the other side. "_What?_ What?! You—he—that lecher better not have tried anything! Wait—and now you're going out to _dinner _with him?! Sango, have you lost your mind!_ Inuyasha, go away! I'm in the middle of a conversation!_ Sango, I—hang on." It sounded like Kagome and Inuyasha were arguing at the top of their lungs.

Inuyasha suddenly came to the phone. "Sango? Kagome won't listen to me, but Miroku just called—he's heading over to your place now."

"He's _what?!_" Sango sat up so fast that spots danced before her eyes. "But we agreed to meet at a café in about—" she checked her watch—"an hour and a half!"

"Nevertheless…"

"How did he get my address, anyway?" she snapped, not believing the turn of events.

"Um…well…I sorta gave it to him…"

"You what?" she growled, twisting the bed's comforter in her fist.

"Hey, he wheedled it out of me!" Inuyasha protested. "You know how he is!"

_"I can't believe this!" _Kagome raged in the background.

"It's okay, Inuyasha, I understand," Sango said wearily, running a hand over her eyes, and inevitably smearing her mascara. "Ah, crap—"

"What's the matter?"

"Nothing. I'd better get dressed before the pervert starts peeking in my windows… Tell Kagome thanks anyway and that I'll call her with all the details later tonight."

"Will do. Have fun tonight."

"Yeah…right…" She snapped her phone shut and collapsed backwards on the bed again. "What the hell am I doing…?"

.

.

The doorbell jolted Sango out of her sleep. "What…?" She flipped over on her stomach and blinked her eyes until the numbers on her digital clock came into focus. _Six o'clock__? Already?! Oh my god, I must have fallen asleep!_ She rubbed her eyes and jumped off the bed, swaying slightly as she ran towards her closet. That fifteen-minute nap had done nothing to alleviate her fatigue. _Why did I agree to this dinner date again?_

_ Oh that's right. I'm still in love with my boyfriend from my senior year in high school._

_ Yup, I'm out of my mind._

The doorbell rang again.

_Crap, that's probably Miroku._

"Just a minute!" Sango shouted, pawing through her drawers to find a suitable outfit to wear. "Oh for…forget it, I'll just throw something on, invite him in and sit him on the couch with a drink, and _then_ come in here to change." She pulled a tee shirt and a pair of jean shorts out of her dresser drawer that was shoved into her closet, pulled them on, pushed her hair out of her face, and ran to the door.

In the duration of these actions, the doorbell rang a total of three times.

"You always were impatient," muttered Sango, hurriedly turning the locks. She threw open the door and glared at a smiling Miroku. "You're forty-five minutes early."

"I know," he said, the smile not leaving his face. "I thought I'd take you shopping."

"H-huh?"

"I figured you'd work yourself into a frazzled state over what to wear and how to do your hair; so it occurred to me that we could avoid that problem by simply going shopping together. How's that sound?"

"Uhh…" Boy, wasn't she Miss Eloquent today. "Um, sure, that's fine… I guess—um, you want to come in?"

"Sure." He stepped inside and took in her apartment. He whistled. "Nice place you got here."

She shrugged. "It suits me." She kept her gaze trained on the wall, fingering the frayed edges on her cutoffs. Miroku hadn't changed out of his business suit, although he had ditched the jacket and tie. The sunglasses remained, however. She looked down at her outfit and winced. "Um, can I get you something to drink?"

"Water, please."

She met his gaze. "Water? What happened to your soda addiction?"

He shrugged, grinning a little. "I'm trying to wean myself off of it."

His hair was down. Lord, he looked good. Back in high school, it was usually swept into a low ponytail… why had he worn it down tonight?

To seduce her, probably.

…

It was working.

She nearly ran into the kitchen to get him his water. _Why, why, why am I doing this? _she asked herself for the thousandth—no, millionth—time. _He can't possibly still care about me. Why did he even ask me to dinner? To catch up? I'll be this is nothing more than a "friends" date._ She gave a small laugh. _Knowing Miroku, he probably has another date lined up tomorrow._ She jerked the faucet on and sprayed herself with water.

"God…bless…it." Sango forced herself to breathe. This time, she slowly turned on the faucet and filled Miroku's glass with a tiny stream of water.

When she finally emerged from the kitchen, half-covered in water and her hands shaking, she found him studying the pictures mounted on her wall. "Here's your water," she said, keeping her distance from him.

He turned and smiled. "Thanks." He looked towards the picture he was studying. "Who is this?"

"Hmm?" Crap, now she'd have to go join him. She stepped closer. "Oh, that's Rin and Kanna. They're identical twins…only Kanna turned out to be an albino. Weird, huh? Rin is Kohaku's girlfriend. She's adorable."

She was babbling again. Miroku was making her nervous. She held out the water to him. "Here."

He grasped the glass and took a sip. "My thanks, Sango." His eyes held hers, and she looked away after a moment. "Um…I guess I should go get dressed."

"You're fine in that. You're just going to be stuffing those clothes in the trunk of my car, anyhow."

"So we're going straight to the restaurant after shopping?" Sango asked, a little annoyed that he already had everything figured out—without her consent.

"We don't have much time."

"Yeah, I suppose that's true," she muttered. "You win. Let's go. As long as you don't mind your date looking like she just rolled out of bed."

"Sango, you look beautiful," Miroku returned seriously. "You could never look like you just rolled out of bed."

She shot him a glance. "Flattery will get you no where."

"Oh no?" He smiled. "You're blushing."

His words made her flush harder. "I am _not!_"

Miroku squeezed her arm gently, then turned and walked to the door. "Let's go. We don't have much time."

"We're taking your car?"

"What kind of gentleman would I be if I let the lady drive?"

_So chivalry still exists.__ Amazing._ "Whatever, Houshi. Let's just go." _And get this over with._

.

.

Sango stopped short as Miroku pushed the unlock button on his key-ring and the lights on the black BMW in front of them flashed.

"You have a BMW?" A far cry from her modest Toyota Corolla.

"Mmhm. Thought the car should match my suits." He winked at her. "I have a beat-up old 1986 Honda Civic that I drive if I don't want to be recognized, though."

"Do you really," Sango murmured as she climbed into the passenger's seat. She felt out of place in her jeans and tee-shirt. "So the plan is to find me something to wear, and then on to dinner?"

"Yup." Miroku turned on the ignition and pulled out of the parking space. "Seat belt, Sango."

"Huh?" She jolted out of her thoughts and looked down. "Oh…right…" She buckled up and shot Miroku, who was laughing, an annoyed look. "And just what is so humorous?"

"Nothing." He valiantly tried to pull a straight face, but was not successful. "It's just I always maintained the image of you following all rules, avoiding all trouble… and now here you are breaking the law without any guilt whatsoever."

"Oh yeah? Well, I download music off the internet, go 50 in 30 mph zones, and park in handicapped spaces. What say you to that?"

He winked at her. "You're hardly a criminal. Looks like my image of you wasn't too skewed."

"Keep your eyes on the road, Miroku!"

He compliantly turned away and stomped on the break. "What other secrets haven't you told me?"

"I don't know. It's not like I have a set repertoire."

He smiled. "Still have a ready retort. That'll never change."

"I hope not. I'm guessing your past girlfriends let you get away with murder?"

"Of course not!"

"Heh, yeah, right," she muttered to herself, resuming her activity of staring out the window. "Where are we going, Miroku? It can't be too expensive—I haven't cashed in my paycheck yet. And no," she said when she caught that look in his eyes, "you are _not _paying for it. Whatever I end up getting."

"But Sango—" he protested.

"No. I'm assuming you're paying for dinner?"

"Of course."

"All right then. It's split even."

He shot her a dry look. "Why are you being so obstinate?"

_Why, indeed? What am I trying to prove? That I'm not a helpless? That I am able to live without him? _"My nature, I guess," she finally said. "Has that changed too?"

He shrugged. "Can't remember. But then, back then, you weren't afraid of me."

"What's that supposed to mean?" snapped Sango, tearing her eyes from the window.

"I was hoping you'd tell me. You seem on edge around me. Do I make you nervous? It's just a friend's date."

She looked down at her shoes. _Yes, that's what's set me on edge. You don't need me at all. This is just another date to you—I'm just another woman._ She drew in a soft breath and released it. "Yes. Just a friend's date. I'm not nervous."

Yeah, now she sounded retarded. Not a marked improvement.

"Right," he said quietly.

.

.

She was scared of him. He could see it in her eyes. Miroku let out a sigh as he raced to beat a yellow light.

"Miroku! Idiot, do you know how many accidents are caused by yellow-light chasers?"

He shot her a grin. "Do you want to make our reservations or not?"

"Better late than _never_," she shot back, quick as ever.

He smiled to himself. It didn't surprise him that she became a translator. She was always good with words.

Except when she tried to lie. Then her tongue got all knotted.

A sigh rose within his chest and he let it out inaudibly. She _was _afraid of him—or maybe just apprehensive. Her actions said that she still had feelings for him—but she was desperately trying to push them away. He winced, recalling her words from earlier that afternoon. _"I haven't dated because I'm paranoid now. But when I actually get up the courage to date someone else…I know it'll be because I have total faith in them." _He'd hurt her more than he realized.

His actions had hurt them both.

Miroku let his mind wander, contemplating what could have been. They could have dated, gone to the community college together, gotten married…

He frowned. If he hadn't gone to college in the US, if he hadn't had the opportunities that had arisen… would he be the successful businessman he was today? Would he have been able to support Sango?

He rolled a shoulder. _No time to be thinking about the past, boy. It's over and done with. Focus on the present now…like how to make Sango open up to you…_

"MIROKU! WATCH IT! BRAKE, _BRAKE_—!"

He jerked out of dreamland and saw nothing but red lights. "Damn it—!" He stomped on the brake, but the car kept rolling. He jerked the wheel to the side, hoping to avoid a collision—

He heard the screeching of horns and the squeals of tires. His car came to a shuddering halt, and he heard a sickening crunch. Miroku slowly turned around and looked out of the back window, expecting to see a car on top of his trunk…

But instead saw two cars with steaming engines piled on top of each other behind him and another's front wrapped around a light post. His car was halfway on the sidewalk. Pedestrians were openly gaping at the pile-up.

He glanced over at Sango, whose face was as white as a sheet; her breathing was coming out in ragged breaths.

"Miroku," she said, her voice shaking, "you almost got us killed."

He rested his head against the wheel. "Actually," he said, smiling devilishly, "_you _almost got us killed."

"_Me?!_ What the hell—?"

"Language, Sango!" he laughed. "The reason I drifted off into dreamland was because I was thinking of you. Doesn't that theoretically make the accident your fault?"

"Tell that to the police," she huffed, turning around to look at the vehicles from whence the sirens originated.

His smile faltered a little. "What was that you said again? 'Better late than never'?"

.

.

"I'm guessing," Sango drawled. "That we missed our reservations?"

"By about two hours," answered Miroku, checking his watch. He ran a hand through his hair and looked around the police station. "Let's get out of here before they think of something else to question us about."

"Good idea." She looped her arm through his and led him out of the station and into the dusky Tokyo sky. "It's twilight."

"Twilight?" Miroku smiled. " 'Sunset' isn't good enough for you?"

"But it's not sunset," she argued. "The sun is already down, but there's still some light in the sky. It's twilight."

"Whatever you say, Lady Sango."

She cracked her neck and looked down the street. "At least your car is still intact."

"Wish I could say that much about my bank account."

"Oh please. I bet in two weeks you make twice that fee you just paid."

He looked at her out of the corner of his eye. "I'm rich, yes, but not _that _rich."

She smiled, not knowing quite how to respond to his humble-but-not-quite statement. "I'm guessing there's no point in going shopping now?"

"Probably not. Are you getting hungry?"

"A little; mostly from all the excitement. There's a park not far from here; what do you say we find a hot dog vendor and eat dinner there?"

"That," he said, "is the best idea I've heard all night."

A small park was situated not too far away from the police section; since it was a major business area, the designers of the square figured they'd make a place for businessmen to take a break from work and get a change of scenery. As the city built up around the area, some apartment buildings sprung up, and the park became a place for school kids to play after school and businessmen to lunch during the week.

Miroku and Sango strolled down the sidewalk, arm-in-arm, ignoring the odd looks that were sent their way. They _did _make a rather strange sight: Sango in her cut-offs, tee-shirt, and flip flops, her hair billowing down her back, and Miroku in work slacks, dress shoes, and a long, button-down shirt.

"Maybe I should take this shirt off so I could match your style," he suggested.

"And walk around shirtless."

"Of course not—I have my undershirt."

"Let's just hope you don't meet any work colleagues."

He shrugged. "They wouldn't recognize me without the sunglasses and with my hair down."

"Not too close to anyone?"

"Except Inuyasha," he corrected.

"Hmm." Sango had expected him to have dozens of friends, what with his charismatic personality.

"Does that surprise you?"

Dang. Him and his ability to read her. "Some."

"Why?"

"Well…in high school, you always had a crowd of people surrounding you. You were never lacking in a buddy to go jog around the track, or someone to accompany you to the office—"

"They were just acquaintances," he said. "I didn't really have any close friends besides you and Kagome. Maybe Haachi. That's why I was really surprised at how close Inuyasha and I became in college. _You _were my best friend before. It was weird having a guy that I could count on—we could go check out chicks or leave our dirty underwear all over the dorm—"

"Ew, more than I wanted to know." Sango wrinkled her nose.

Miroku made a face at her. The wind ruffled his hair and Sango's heart skipped a beat. She quickly looked away. "So, do you see a hot dog vendor anywhere?"

He made a point of looking right to left. "Nope. Looks like our streak of bad luck is holding."

"Bad luck?"

Miroku began to tick off on his fingers. "One, the elevator breaks down. Two, you miss your lunch meeting. Three, I miss an important briefing with my boss. Four, we get in a car accident and consequently miss our dinner together. Five, we can't find a hot dog vendor anywhere in sight."

"Oh yeah? I think I'll count off all our _good _luck." She mimicked Miroku, ticking off on her fingers. "One, the elevator breaks down and we are stranded together, the situation forcing us to re-meet. Two, I miss my lunch meeting and have to call Inuyasha; this enables you to obtain my phone number. Three, you miss an important briefing that you probably didn't want to attend anyway. Four, we get in an accident and miss our dinner together, but are now strolling along the sidewalks in search of hotdogs, which I enjoy much more than I would a stuffy restaurant. Five—there's a vendor right over there." She quirked him a grin. "See, Houshi? It's all how you see the glass."

Miroku slid an arm around her waist and tickled her a bit. "You win. Race you to the hot dog stand—loser has to pick up the tab."

"Hey!" Sango shouted as he took off running. She took off behind him, still yelling. "Whatever happened to chivalry?!"

.

.

"Cheater," Sango grumbled as she slathered her hot dog in ketchup and mustard. "You did that on purpose."

"Of course I did." Miroku grinned cheekily, the sun reflecting off his tan, muscular chest. "And it worked, didn't it?"

Sango shot him an icy glare. "That was low, Hamaguchi, _very _low."

She received a devastating smile in reply. Pretending to be mad, she looked away. That stupid hentai had pulled of his shirt right when she was about to catch up to him and touch the cart. Caught off guard by the sight of his bare chest, she faltered for a moment, giving him the chance to tag the vending cart and therefore win the race.

Miroku poked her in the side. "Since when did you start gloping condiments onto your dogs?"

"I've eaten wieners like this since I was six, Houshi; get a clue."

"Really?" He squinted at her.

"And what's with that plain hot dog?" she asked, nodding to his dinner. "It looks so…naked."

"I'm a purist," he proclaimed.

Sango snorted. "Whatever works for you, buddy."

"Yes ma'am. Now what do you say we stroll around the park and dine on this feast?"

"Sounds good to me." She took a bite of her meal and smiled. "Mmm. Just the way I remember them."

Miroku, on the other hand, was not enjoying his food as much as Sango was. "Ugh. I can almost taste the fat and grease."

"Oh, lighten up. It won't hurt you if you eat them sporadically."

"I vaguely recalling hearing the same thing about drugs," he said under his breath.

"Are you implying that I'm _addicted_?"

"No—I was just making a comparison…eh…never mind." Sango was shooting daggers at him.

"That's better." She smiled and moved so that their arms were almost brushing as they walked.

"How far is this park again?"

"Just in front of us," Sango said, amused. "See those leafy green things up there? Yeah, those would be called trees. Don't see 'em much outside parks anymore."

"Smart aleck. I feel like every time I open my mouth, I'm shot to the ground with your words."

"Oh!" A hand flew over her mouth. "I'm sorry, Miroku. I meant it all in fun—back then we would always banter and…I'm sorry, I had no idea I would offend you—"

"Sango!" He grabbed her arms, discarding his hot dog to the ground. "Calm down. It wasn't a serious statement. You're fine; you were just acting comfortable. I'm sorry I suggested otherwise."

"Oh," she said lamely, biting her lip. "Sorry for overreacting, then…"

He gave her a tender smile. "You don't have to apologize."

"Oh." Now she was sounding like a redundant parrot. "Okay. Sor—" She stopped, becoming frustrated. "Are we going to that park or not?!"

"Yes ma'am." He looped his arm through hers and steered her towards the greenery.

Sango sighed. That uncomfortable barrier was up again. Every time they started to slip back into their relaxed normalcy…_something _had to happen.

.

.

Miroku was mentally kicking himself. Just when she was starting to let her guard down, to begin to tap into her old feelings, her old familiarity with him—he had to go ruin it with that idiotic comment. _Smooth move, Hamaguchi._ He didn't know how he was going to get her off her uncomfortable ledge now.

They walked for a few moments in silence. They were almost to the entrance of the park before Sango spoke.

"Why are you doing this?"

Her question caught him off guard. "Doing what?"

"This. The 'friendship date.' Is it for old-time's sake, or what?"

He gave her a look. Was she really so…oblivious? "Sango. I missed you. You don't know how many times over the years I wished I could talk to you, see you, even engage in a five-minute phone call…"

"Then why didn't you?"

"Why didn't I what?"

"Call. You had my number."

"When you were still living at home. I actually did try and call…once or twice a year I think. Lady Fate was not smiling on me. The first time I called, Kohaku answered and hung up on me. I guess I'd left a bad impression in their minds."

She was silent, her cheeks a bit flushed. Miroku suspected that her little brother had snooped through her diary, just like he always did, and inadvertently stumbled over a Miroku-bashing session.

"And the second time?" she asked.

"Kagome answered while you were in the shower. And I was on a calling card I was using only had three minutes left on it. I told her to tell you I said hello…"

Sango snorted.

"I'm guessing that was one message that was never relayed."

"Dead on."

He sighed. "I'm sorry, Sango."

"No. I am. If I hadn't made such a big deal out of things, maybe my friends and family wouldn't have hated you so much."

He shrugged. "Can't say I didn't deserve it."

She didn't deny it.

They entered the park together and strolled around in silence for a bit. Sango was picking at the hot dog bun and flicking little scraps of it to the pigeons that hopped across the sidewalk. _Hop, hop, hop, _Miroku thought. _Sort of like what I'm doing—hoping on stones floating in a pool of lava—though it looks like I just fell in._

"So," he finally said. "Tell me about your work." _Lame, lame_. But it was something. And work was guaranteed to start a conversation.

Sango shot him a knowing look, but humored him. "Well, I'm a translator, as you know. Inuyasha is my immediate boss, although above him is Hakudoushi—"

"Who?"

"Hakudoushi. This little slip of a kid; he's eighteen and an absolute genius, but he tends to be rather demeaning to Inuyasha, which drives our friend absolutely insane…"

Miroku chuckled. "Inuyasha is a control-freak."

"I've noticed."

"So you translate news articles from papers in Korea and China?"

"Basically. I don't actually pick out which articles to translate—Inuyasha does that for me—but I translate them. It takes me a few hours to do two or three articles short articles."

"You do this all day?"

"Mmhm."

He shook his head. "And you enjoy this?"

"Actually, yes I do," she said coolly.

He mentally slapped himself. This wasn't the old Sango, who would let comments like that roll off her back. This was the defensive, uneasy Sango… how was it that he could slip back into the groove of their old relationship so easily, but she tried with all her might to keep her distance? "Sango, I was being facetious."

"I noticed."

"I'm sorry?"

"You're forgiven."

_Curses._ This was ridiculous. There was once a time when they were best friends, when she wouldn't have hesitated to tell him what she _really _thought—heck, she called him a "baka hentai" and "stupid" more often than she called him "honey" or such pet names. Which made those rare moments even more sweeter.

He sighed and kicked at a stray stone in the pathway. A slight breeze rustled the trees' leaves and the warmness of the wind brought a wistful smile to his face as he recalled the afternoons the two of them would spend studying. Miroku sighed. Why was he holding onto the past like a stubborn miser? He'd dated Sango for a total of one year—he dated scores of women in college, and had once thought that Maria was his true love. But… he wasn't able to go through with the idea of a wedding. He couldn't see himself at her side for the rest of his life. And the worst part was—

Every time he kissed Maria, Sango's face would fill his mind.

It was horrible, he knew. Maybe the reason he had taken the relationship so far was to try and get Sango's image out of his head. He felt like…like the worst kind of player for leading Maria on that way… but it _had _been an amicable parting in the end. Right? Maria hadn't cried when he told her he wanted to call off the engagement. He explained that it wasn't her, it was totally him, he wasn't ready for a commitment this big, et cetera, et cetera. Maria had actually taken the news very well; she'd only asked for a goodbye kiss in return. The kiss had gotten rather passionate—oddly enough, it was the only time that Sango's image hadn't popped up in his head. He liked to think of it as his parting favor to Maria; at least he'd devoted himself to her that one time.

He scowled slightly. Why was he even trying to reestablish his relationship with Sango? What exactly was he looking for? True love? The relationship they'd once had? He knew he could never get that back; it just wasn't possible to turn back time. He'd hurt her too much, he'd changed to much. It was impossible to go back.

So why _was _he here? Surely he wasn't trying to be "friends" again. He'd never done that with any of his other girlfriends.

Then again, he'd never had the same kind of relationship with any of his other girlfriends.

Sango was…special. She was pretty (he thought she was gorgeous), she was brilliant, she wasn't afraid of putting him in his place, she was protective of friends of family… but then, all those other girls he dated had most of those qualities. So what was it about Sango that attracted him to her?

He glanced towards her and found her smiling at the antics of a few schoolboys playing football° on the grass, their joyful shouts filling the park.

"They look so carefree," she said. "Sometimes I wish I was that young again and I didn't have all these adult problems to worry about."

_Like me, for instance?_ "Yeah."

"I mean, back then your biggest worry was if your mom packed you another one of those icky tuna fish sandwiches for lunch, or if your best friend would try to take your favorite purple crayon at coloring time." She laughed a little. "Kids are so funny."

_You want any? _

"Kohaku used to play football, you know. You were his hero back then, since you were the school football star and all."

Miroku managed a smile, albeit strained. "Yeah."

"Did you play any in college?" she asked.

"Not much. I wasn't on the UCLA team, but I did play on the practice fields for fun from time to time."

"Ah."

A silence came over them again, only this one was apparently uncomfortable. Both Miroku and Sango fumbled for a topic, trying in vain to find something to talk about…

Finally Sango started giggling. Miroku shot her a curious look, but that only made her laugh harder.

"What's the matter?" he finally asked.

"Us," she managed to choke out. "This is so—imbecilic! We're stepping on eggshells around each other because we're afraid of what the other will think, and we're not even enjoying ourselves."

Miroku chuckled a bit, but failed to see the humor in the situation.

"I mean," Sango rambled on, "it's obvious that we can never go back to what we had—so why can't we just accept that and move on, enjoying the friendship that we have?"

_Is she speaking for herself? Or is she trying to tell me something more? _"Sango…is that what you really want?"

"It's not about what we _want_, Miroku," she snapped. "It's about reality. 'You can't go back home again.' You can't base a relationship on what you knew years and years ago: I'm different now! You've changed, as well! We'd both be expecting to be dating the person we knew back then—but we'd both be disappointed."

Miroku frowned. "I think you're taking this to the extremity, Sango. Who said anything about dating?"

She immediately flushed red. "Well—I…I assumed that—since…" She huffed and turns her head away. "You mean you…never mind."

"No, what were you going to say?"

"It doesn't matter."

Her head was averted, but Miroku could see the sad planes lining her face. He gently reached out and touched her shoulder. "Sango."

She shrugged his hand away.

"Sango, I didn't say anything about dating because I thought I might be moving to fast. But now, since you've brought it up, I think we should discuss—"

"Let it go, Miroku," she said, a quaver in her voice. "Thank you. For waking me up from my fairytale world. For reminding me that I shouldn't _assume _things concerning you."

"Hey, now, no need to get personal," he said, his brow furrowed in displeasure.

"Whatever." She turned and started to walk in the other direction.

"Sango!" He grabbed her shoulder and spun her around again. "What's the matter?"

"You!" she nearly screeched. "You, Miroku! Have you no consideration for my feelings? How can you just—argh—what am I to you?" she demanded. "Just tell me that. And what is the purpose of this so-called _date_? You call me, ask me to go on a '_friend's date'_, lead me on, and then tell me that I'm going too far by considering dating?" She shook her head. "I don't get you."

He gently rubbed her shoulders. "I wanted to see what you were thinking," he explained quietly. "I wanted to know if—" he cut off, as if thinking better of his words, then shrugged and continued: "if I had a chance with you."

"You had a chance eight years ago and blew it."

"So you don't believe in second chances?"

"Not if you blow the first one as royally as you did!"

"That's not quite fair."

"You broke my heart once; who's to say you won't do it again?"

Sango's blatant words hung between them, as Miroku stared at her, silent and contemplating, Sango staring back, her breathing erratic and her eyes reflecting anger and hurt.

All he could think of was how beautiful she was and how much he wanted her to know…

Know how much he loved her…

.

.

His lips were upon hers before she knew what was happening. Sango's eyes flew open wide before automatically closing. She melted into the kiss, her arms slipped onto his shoulders and his tightened around her waist. This felt so right—she'd been missing this for so long. The taste of his lips upon hers…

No. No, this wasn't right. He didn't love her, he was just responding to his emotions and his lecherous instinct. She was just another woman.

Tears were slipping down her cheeks. She had to pull away; had to detached herself before she got in to deep. Heaven help her, she still loved him. One kiss and she was ready to throw away her long-saved virginity—

She was lonely. She was still young, but going to three of her friend's weddings (participating in two of them) had taken its toll. She wanted a relationship, she wanted a husband, she wanted someone to talk to in the middle of the night, or to cuddle up with when it was raining, or someone to have popcorn fights with.

She wanted Miroku.

Ironically enough, he was the one man that she couldn't get.

She regretfully, yet forcefully pulled herself out of his embrace and averted her gaze, aware of her flushed cheeks and shimmering eyes. Like she'd said, they weren't the same people. She was just another conquest—another token to add to his collection of memories. "No, Miroku."

"What do you mean 'no'?" He sounded annoyed.

"I mean, no. You're too risky—I could end up hurt."

"Risky?" He laughed. "Take a look in the mirror, Sango. I try to take you on a date, only to find that you're on edge the whole time, just waiting for me to mess up so you can have an excuse to leave. I'm sorry for my past actions—don't make them the basis for your image of me now."

She flushed. "You just don't get it, do you? I can't trust myself around you. You're the only man I've ever loved, but you continue to lead me on and let me down." She pulled in a breath. "I'm on a precipice—I don't trust my emotions. One false step and I can fall in."

"Sango…" He dipped his head down again, their lips meeting once again. "I'm trying to show you—"

"How hard it is for you to resist a female?" She slapped him. Hard.

Miroku stumbled back a bit, his face registering shock. She could almost read his thoughts. _"She slapped me?"_

"Bastard. I was willing to give you another chance—but it looks like all you're interested in is merely physical." She turned and ran towards the entrance of the park. She'd pick up a taxi and find her way home, indulging herself in a late night movie and some Italian ice cream to soothe her wounded heart.

She made it to the outside gate before she realized that Miroku hadn't followed her.

And she didn't have her cell phone.

The tears were slipping down faster now.

.

.

Sango fumbled around her pockets, searching for her keys. She swiped at her eyes, trying to clear her vision long enough to chose the right key. She'd received many strange looks as she ran through the lobby of her building, her hair in her face, her eyes all puffy and red. Her neighbors all knew her as the sensible, practical woman who makes a good living as a translator. If Sango dated, Sango was rational and unemotional about it. But then, Sango didn't really date. Sango was the girl everyone came to when they realized their boyfriends were lying skunks or if a man had broken their heart. Sango would serve them up a cup of hot Chamomile tea and sit them down on the couch, letting the blubbering fools spill their problems.

Who was going to sit her down on the couch and console this weepy mess of a woman?

Sango jammed her key in the door and turned the lock. Nothing happened. She squinted at the key. Oops. That was her office key. She tried another. Oh, that was the key to Kagome's apartment. She was probably doing something with Inuyasha now.

Sango burst into a fresh round of sobbing. Inuyasha had made her think of Miroku, and now… damn that man! He'd turned her into a complete wreck.

She gave up trying to open her door and slid down to the floor, pulling her knees up to her chin, and weeping into her crossed arms.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, she heard the door next to hers open and footsteps emerge. But she was so caught up in her misery that these senses didn't register until someone put their arms around her and pulled her close. Sango startled and looked up into the face of her new protector. A look of recognition passed over her features and she rested her head on her savior's shoulder and sobbed her heart out.

.

.

"Now, Sango, that your little fit of weeping has passed, why don't you tell me the whole story."

Sango took a sip of Chamomile tea and leaned back onto the soft surface of her next-door-neighbor's couch. "I love your furniture, you know."

"Yes, you've told me. Many times. Ironic, considering you helped me pick it out."

"Oh yeah…"

"Remember when first realized that salesman was stalking us, and not just because he was worried about commission? I thought you were going to practice your self-defense skills right then and there and—hey, no fair changing the subject!"

Sango smiled, and took another sip of tea. Rin was so easy to distract. But that's what made her so adorable. "But Rin-chan, I really don't want to discuss my feelings."

"Oh no you don't, Little Miss I-think-I'll-go-to-pieces-and-scare-my-neighbor-to-death. What were you doing bawling your eyes out outside your door, with the keys in your hand? I have never seen you this distraught!"

"Oh?" Sango raised an eyebrow.

"That's not fair," Rin huffed, sinking into an armchair opposite from Sango's seat on the couch. "You can recompose yourself much to quickly. If the red puffiness just died down, I wouldn't even suspect that five minutes ago you were on the verge of a nervous breakdown."

"Gee, thanks."

"Since I have never, in all of my three years of knowing you, seen you cry, I want to know what happened. Was it that insensitive boss of yours?"

Sango snorted. "Inuyasha could never make me cry. If he did, Kagome would pummel him faster than I could say 'sit, boy.'"

"Was it that creepy copier man that's always staring at you? He tried to make a move on you, didn't he?"

"Don't be ridiculous. I run in the opposite direction whenever he gets in a five-foot radius of me."

"Smart girl. He weirds me out."

"Me too. Especially with those red eyes of his. And that laugh. _'Ku ku ku,'_" she imitated.

Rin shivered. "Don't do that!"

"Sorry."

"Is it a man, though? I thought that you'd sworn them off after that bastard a few years ago."

"No, I swore them off my senior year in high school. The rest were times when I foolishly let my guard down."

"Bitter."

"You'd better believe it."

"So it wasn't a man?"

"I didn't say that."

Rin straightened in her chair. "So it _was _a man."

Sango suddenly found the nesting pigeon outside the window extremely fascinating. "Wow, is that a pigeon? That one looks really rare."

"Who was it?" Rin pressed. When Rin was determined to drag information out of a person, there was no deterring her.

"You don't know him."

"That's what they all say. Have you dated him before?"

"Yes."

"Kuransuke?"

"Why does everyone jump to that conclusion? The guy may be crazy for me, but I can't stand him."

"Geez, no false humility there."

"It's the truth," said Sango defensively.

"Point," Rin conceded. "All right. Continue please. Who is this bastard that broke your heart?"

Sango scowled. "My heart's not broken."

"Uh-huh, right. And I'm the reincarnation of that brat who followed the Lord of the Western lands around."

"The…what?"

"Feudal history. There was this little girl way back when with my name. I like to think that we're related."

"Uh…ok…" Rin was a bit eccentric. If she wasn't so sweet, Sango would be uneasy about letting her brother date the woman.

"It was Miroku-san, wasn't it?" Rin suddenly said.

"Huh? No! I mean—no…" Sango winced. "Dammit."

"Ha!" Rin crowed. "Gotcha!"

"Caught me off guard," mumbled Sango, twisting a strand of hair around her finger.

"So, this is the man that _started _all your problems?"

"Yeah."

"I thought you didn't know where he was living."

"Apparently he's been in Tokyo for two years now, but I just never knew it."

"So…what happened? Did the mere sight of him send you into tears?"

Sango laughed a little. "No. I'm not that weak. We got stuck in those evil elevators yesterday…he didn't recognize me, actually."

"What!"

She shrugged. "It's been a long time…"

"That's no excuse! You recognized him."

"Yeah, well, he figured things out eventually. Anyhow, he asked me to dinner today—"

"And you accepted?"

"Yes, but we never made it. We kinda got into a car crash—"

"An accident? Sango, what the hell is going on here?"

"So we decided to go for a walk in the park. We were talking and then…I dunno how exactly this happened, but we ended up kissing…"

"You _what?_" Rin shrieked.

"Then—" dammit, she was crying again—"I ran away. Because he doesn't love me. I'm just another conquest for him—or maybe he went out with me for old time's sake."

"That…that…bastard!"

"Yes, Rin, I think you've said that already."

"He went out with you for _old time's sake?_"

"Well…I don't know for sure. That's just speculation."

"Right," Rin huffed. "I bet you're right. From everything you've told me, he doesn't sound like the kind of guy you want to be dating."

Now Sango felt bad for bashing him. "But he does have his good points—he's sweet, sensitive, um, loyal…"

Rin eyed Sango critically. "You're in love with him, aren't you?"

"No!"

"You are. Why else would you be defending him?"

"Because I…oh, I don't know! What the hell _is _love anyway?"

Rin sighed and propped her feet up on the coffee table. "Now _that_ is a good question. From what I can tell, though, love is when you like a person so much it hurts. When you're away from him for more than a day and you begin to go crazy. When your heart still leaps every time he calls you, even though you've been dating him for a couple of years. When just setting eyes on him gives you the vapors." Her voice grew soft and dreamy. "When you can't imagine living without him." Now it was Rin's turn to stare out the window.

Sango said nothing. _She really is in love with my brother, isn't she?_

When Rin finally came out of her reverie she questioned, "So, Sango, do you love this man?"

"I don't _know_. I just don't know."

"Do any of those things apply to you?"

"They all do," she admitted brokenly. "It's been eight years and I _still _can't get him off my mind! I was so happy when I saw him again in the elevator…and then he didn't recognize me. He took me on a date—albeit a friend's date—and then he kissed me and I was about to die of happiness… but I knew it wasn't real. It was just lust. Miroku loves a new woman every week."

"So, wait…why did you run away?"

Sango sighed. "Because I was scared. Scared of him. Scared of myself. Afraid I'd let him go too far, and afraid he'd leave me again. I couldn't stand to be hurt again—I don't think my heart can take it."

"Sango," Rin soothed, leaving her chair to come sit next to her. "If you love him, then running away is probably hurting you more."

"But what if he _does _leave me again?" Sango cried.

"He can't leave you if you never get together."

"Exactly. If we don't get together, I'm safe."

"That's not the point," Rin scolded. "If you don't get together, you'll never be happy."

Sango stared at her.

"Am I right?"

The brown-eyed translator looked away. "So you think I should get back together with him?"

Rin shrugged. "That's for you to decide. In my opinion, he sounds like a low-life, two-timing bastard that's unworthy of your love…but if he holds your heart, he must have _some _good in him."

Sango nodded mutely.

"Tell you what," Rin sad, "why don't I call Sesshomaru-sama and ask his opinion? He's really very wise and he'll tell you exactly what he thinks, regardless of how it's going to sound."

"Sesshomaru?" repeated Sango.

"My guardian." Rin nodded in a childlike way. "He raised me after he saw me in an orphanage he donated some money to. I wasn't very nice to him. I was running from the cook because I had stolen some cookies, only I wasn't looking where I was going, so I crashed headlong into his legs. The mother of the orphanage was horrified—because he was the biggest donator towards the place—and she told me to go to my room immediately and forget about coming to supper that night. I, being only five, mind you, cussed her out and yelled some choice words at Sesshomaru-sama as well. Lucky for me, he wasn't even offended—actually, he was amused! So he adopted me then and there…and here I am today!" She beamed.

Sango's eyes had glazed over somewhere in the middle of Rin's rapid-fire story, but she did manage to get some crucial points…and form a few questions in her mind. "Hang on…Sesshomaru? Not Sesshomaru Takahashi?"

"Yeah!" Rin chirped. "You know him?"

"Inuyasha's my boss."

"No kidding?" Rin laughed. "That's so funny!"

"No it's not," Sango mumbled. "My head hurts now…" Then a thought popped into her head. "Wait—have you ever met Inuyasha?"

"Sure. Funny guy. Potty mouth. Really stressed."

Sango quirked a smile. "That's him. Have you ever met his best friend?"

"Oh you mean the hentai? Miroku? Yeah, I've met him. He tried to grope me. Sesshomaru knocked the lights out of him and refrained Kohaku from doing any more damage." Rin's eyes suddenly flew open. "Wait—Miroku? That's not…_your _Miroku, is it?" At Sango's nod of affirmation, she screamed, _"Oh my god!"_

"Ay!" Sango winced. "Watch the eardrums."

"Hamaguchi Miroku is the guy that broke your heart eight years ago? That _pervert_? Sango, why are you in love with this guy?!"

"That's what I'd like to know!"

Rin jumped up from her chair and started pacing around the room. "This changes things…"

"How?" grumbled Sango, draining the last bit of her tea. "He's still the same guy. Lecherous, yet sweet. A playboy, yet caring."

"But…but…Sango, how do you know he's sincere? What if he's just using you?"

"That's what I want to know!" she yelled again. "Rin, you're just repeating everything I've just said!"

"Gomen," she apologized, "but I didn't realize it was Hamaguchi Miroku you were talking about. I mean… a girl's heart isn't safe around this guy."

Sango was quiet for a minute. Then: "I know."

"Sango, I know this is going to hurt you… but in your best interests, I think you'd better let him go. You'll be hurt even worse if you get romantically involved with him. Isn't he the one who dated half his college class and got that one freshman girl pregnant?"

Sango's jaw clenched. "I hadn't heard about that last one."

Rin nodded grimly.

The older brunette traced the rim of the teacup. "I've loved him for so long…after eight years, can I really let him go? My heart belongs to him, and only to him. I know that now. Seeing him after all these years…brought it to light."

Rin sighed. "We've got a big problem on our hands."

"Yeah."

"And you know what to do when we have a big problem on our hands…?"

"Crawl under a rock and die?"

"Of course not! Don't be so pessimistic! The answer is: make hot chocolate!" Rin bounced into the kitchen and yelled over her shoulder, "I guarantee this will make you feel better!"

Sango stared stupidly at the petite girl's retreating back. "Is that what you'd call 'ignorant bliss'?" She shook her head. She didn't want to be rude, but at the moment she really wasn't in the mood for hot chocolate. Maybe she should call Kagome and find out her opinion on this whole mess…

She quietly laid her teacup on the coffee table and retreated towards the door, hoping that Rin would understand why Sango left without saying goodbye.

.

.

The beads of water from the shower pelted down on Sango's head. She imagined the water washing away all her problems, all her worries, all her fears. The bathroom was completely dark except for the tiny frosted window above the toilet. The light the shone through cast a sort of holy glow on the tile. Sango sighed. She wished that the sun would cast some light onto her situation.

"Miroku," she murmured, as she shampooed her hair for a second time. "I love you."

She dropped the shampoo bottle to the ground and sunk to her knees. _But do I love you enough to let you go?_

Her tears melded with the water from the shower.

The raindrops outside started slow and accelerated until they formed a giant grey cloud that completely blocked the sun. The sky was cast a grayish color, and the light that shined through Sango's window shifted to another spot.

.

.

.

° the US is the only messed up country that calls 'football' _"soccer."_ I mean, geez, what's the matter with us? Since I'm trying to keep this story in context, I figured I'd use the term "football"…but just to clear it up, I was not talking about the game where guys with shoulder pads bash into each other like rampaging elephants.

The song at the beginning is title "Let U Go" and is sung by the artist BoA.

Well…looks like this is going to have to be a series… Not that I mind. Please review and tell me what you thought!


	3. Eternal Flame

AN: finally, the ending to Rekindling! Thanks for all my readers who stuck with this story. This chapter's dedicated to my faithful proofreader, Kissabirde. Arigatou, Anie!

-

-

**_Rekindling _**

**_Part III_**

-

**Eternal Flame**

-

_Close your eyes, give me your hand, Darling_

_Can you feel my heart beating?_

_Do you understand?_

_Do you feel the same? Am I only dreaming?_

_Or is this burning an eternal flame?_

-

-

-

"So…run this by me again?" Inuyasha said, crossing his arms.

"I kissed her, she got spooked, and she ran away. I didn't follow."

"She was spooked by a kiss? The girl needs to get out more. Ouch! What was that for, bitch?" Inuyasha rubbed his sore head while glaring at Kagome, who was sitting next to him on the floor.

"That was for being insensitive. Sango's scared, Miroku."

"Yeah, I've noticed. But what's she scared _of_? Me? Our past? Our future?"

"_Potential_ future," corrected Inuyasha. "At the rate you're going, buozo, there will _be_ no future."

The three of them were sitting in Inuyasha's sparsely decorated apartment. The man had a total of five pieces of furniture: a bed, a dresser, a couch, a stand for the TV, and a coffee table. Unfortunately, the couch was occupied by stacks of old newspapers that had been cleared out of the office, so the three friends were having a counseling session for Miroku on the floor.

"She's scared of you, Miroku-san," Kagome said in a "duh" tone of voice.

"Because of our past?"

"Because of _your _past, idiot," said Inuyasha. "Do you think she'll just run into your arms after you've slept around like that? OUCH, bitch, that hurt!"

"No tact whatsoever!" raged Kagome, after having punched Inuyasha. "You have the mind of a three-year-old!"

Miroku sighed. "Is that really the issue?"

"Think about it, blockhead," Inuyasha grunted. "If Sango had been frolicking around the world, sleeping with any man she could get her hands on after she'd already cheated on you, would you jump at the chance to get yourself potentially hurt again?"

Kagome stared at her boyfriend. "That actually made sense."

He rolled his eyes. "Well, Miroku?"

Miroku shifted uneasily. "But, I never really _loved _any of those girls…"

"You're not helping yourself," mumbled Inuyasha.

"—But I love Sango."

"_What_?" Kagome and Inuyasha cried together.

"Since when?" Kagome demanded.

"Are you sure?" said Inuyasha dubiously.

"I've loved her forever, but just figured it out today, and yes, I'm sure."

The couple looked at each other. "This could complicate things," Kagome murmured.

As if to put in its agreement, her cell phone suddenly buzzed Utada Hikaru's "First Love." Kagome looked down at her phone in annoyance. "Let me yell at this person for calling at such in inopportune moment," she said, pulling the vibrating phone from her pocket. "Hey, could you call back some other time, please? I'm kind of— Sango?"

The men in the room snapped to attention. "Let me talk to her!" Miroku whispered urgently.

Inuyasha whacked him on the head. "Idiot, stay where you are!"

"What?...no, that's just Inuyasha and his. . . friend. Bob. Yeah, he's an American. . . "

"Oh thanks," said Miroku indignantly.

Kagome waved a hand at him to shush. "What's the matter? . . . yes, sweetie, I know you have problems. . . Miroku, huh. Big surprise there. . . nothing, nothing. Now? Well, I'm kinda at Inuyasha's. . . well. . . sure—" A gleam in Kagome's eye suddenly appeared. "Yes, of _course _you can come over. Right now will be fine. . . No, no trouble at all, we'll be waiting for you! Bye, Sango-chan!" She resolutely snapped her cell phone shut.

Inuyasha laughed incredulously. "Kag-chan, you little devil!"

Resolutely getting to his feet, Miroku said, "I'm leaving. She'll run away the moment she opens the door."

"No!" Kagome bounced to her feet. "What you two need is a good venting session. From what I've deducted, you just have major miscommunication issues."

"Locking them up in a closet could work too," Inuyasha offered.

Kagome sent him an icy glare. Inuyasha swallowed. "Shutting up."

"Thank you."

Miroku shook his head. "No. I can't force her to love me. Making her spill her feelings might confuse her more than she already is. She probably just _thinks _she's in love with me…" He heaved a sigh. "I'm not the right man for her."

"Wh-what?" Kagome spluttered.

"That's the way to say it, Miroku! The first step is admitting—GODDAMMIT, BITCH! Would you cut that out?"

"Miroku, don't ever say that! Don't doubt yourself! You two are destined for each other, I know it!"

"What the hell, Kagome?" Inuyasha said. "I thought you were against their relationship!"

"The way Miroku has been acting, heck yeah, I'm against it! But he's the only one that can _complete _Sango…so like it or not, the two fools will be miserable without each other."

"Don't talk about Sango that way," Miroku told Kagome, frowning.

"And don't talk about my best friend that way," Inuyasha added.

"Well, Sango-chan's _my_ best friend!" Kagome cried, her eyes welling up. "I just don't want her to be hurt! And it seems like that's all this knucklehead has been doing recently!"

Inuyasha jumped to his feet and ran over to Kagome. "No, Kag-chan, don't cry!" he pleaded. "Please?" He pulled her into his arms and rocked her gently.

Miroku smirked. Inuyasha was such a sap when it came to Kagome-san. And especially when she cried.

"What are you laughing at, hentai?" Inuyasha growled over his shoulder. "_You _made Kagome cry."

Miroku rolled his eyes. _Make Kagome cry, get damned to hell_. "Sorry, Kagome-san."

"S'ok," she mumbled, wiping her eyes with Inuyasha's shirt. "Just—how can you say you love Sango-chan and then break her heart like that?"

"I'm a bastard?"

"That's the first logical thing you've said all night," Inuyasha exclaimed, his arms still around Kagome. "Congratulations, Miroku! Welcome to the world of those who use their minds!"

"Why are _you _welcoming him?" Kagome muttered.

"Hey, bitch, I try and comfort you and this is what I get?"

"Don't call me bitch," she snarled.

"It's a name of affection!"

"Sure it is!"

"Um…I don't mean to break up the fun," Miroku cut in, "but we do have a minor problem at the moment."

"Minor?" Kagome barked, disentangling herself from Inuyasha's arms. "This could be filed under the label of 'catastrophic.' Sango is going to turn up in exactly 13 minutes, and she can _not _see you initially."

"Initially? You're just going to delay the inevitable explosion, ya know." Inuyasha crossed his arms.

"But at least she'll be _in _the apartment," Kagome pointed out. "I get her in, settle her on the floor with a drink, and you go lock the door. Then we can have Miroku emerge from your room."

"And then we go lock ourselves in that room?" asked Inuyasha hopefully.

Kagome's brow furrowed. "Are you implying that we should escape the impending storm of anger, or do you just wanna make out?"

Inuyasha grinned evilly. "Either or."

Miroku rolled his eyes as Kagome punched him again. "If you two are finished…"

Kagome gave her boyfriend's arm one last punch for good measure, then turned back to Miroku. "So does that work for you? You hide out in the bedroom until I give you the all-clear signal—"

"Which is…?"

" 'So, Sango, tell me about your problems with Miroku.'"

"Subtle, Kagome-san."

"Kagome—" Inuyasha tried to interrupt.

"Now—first off, you are going to apologize for your actions. Don't accuse, don't use 'you', always use 'I' or 'me.' And when—"

"_Kagome_—"

"What _is_ it, Inuyasha?"

"Your cell's ringing." He handed her the buzzing object.

"Oh for…" Kagome flipped the top open. "This is Kagome… Sango?"

Both males leaned towards Kagome to try and hear the conversation. "What's the matter?"

_"My car broke down!" _Sango's frantic voice reached them. _"I was supposed to get gas this afternoon, but with all the excitement I forgot! Kagome, I'm stranded in one of the busiest intersections in the city!"_

"Calm down, Sango-chan," said Kagome, looking like she could use some calming down herself. "We'll be there in half a second."

_"Okay."_

Miroku grimaced. She did _not _sound okay.

"Just hang on till we get there, okay? I'll call Triple A and they'll get you all fixed up."

_"Hurry.__ This isn't the best part of town, either."_

"Just might wanna mention that," Inuyasha mumbled.

"Hang on, Sango—be there soon." She grabbed a pen and scribbled the name of the intersection Sango was stuck in on the back of a pizza box. Kagome snapped her phone shut. "Miroku, go pick her up."

"Me? Are you crazy? She'll probably hop onto the back of some biker's Harley the minute she sees me."

"She's not stupid; and she's stranded. That doesn't leave her many options. I'll call Triple A and man the apartment; Inu-chan can go ride with the tow truck people and straighten things out."

"What? Why do I get to do all the dirty work?" her boyfriend complained.

"Because you're the only one that can threaten those conniving agents convincingly. They laugh every time I try a death threat."

He sighed. "Fine."

"_Not _fine," Miroku said, worry lining his face. "If you've forgotten already, Sango isn't too pleased with me. She'll be even more traumatized if I show up."

"On the contrary," Kagome retorted, "she'll have no choice but to ride with you. And then you two can work things out. Now, go, she's waiting all by herself in that seedy area…"

Miroku sighed. "Going."

-

-

Sango slowly closed her phone and slid it back into her purse. She shifted slightly in her seat, deliberately keeping her focus straight in front of her. Her doors were locked, but that didn't make her feel any safer. The buildings lining the street were old and run-down, and many of them she suspected to be brothels. _That's what I get for trying to take a short-cut…_

In her defense, she had been distracted. Big time. Since she knew the statistics of car crashes that happened while people were on their cell phones, she decided not to waste minutes talking to Kagome, but instead tried to get to Inuyasha's as fast as the traffic and her car's churning engine would let her.

And this is where she ended up. Stranded in the worst part of town, the middle of a rainstorm.

A man strolled by her car (which was currently pulled up on the sidewalk, so as to not block traffic too much) slower than necessary. Sango shivered and turned the radio a bit louder, letting the driving beat of Miyavi drown out any unwelcome thoughts.

She _needed _to talk to Kagome. Sango was a wreck. Her hot shower hadn't done anything to alleviate her pain, and her answering machine loudly proclaiming that she had three new messages (she'd bet her last bottle of shampoo that all three of them were from Rin) hadn't only given her a headache.

Sango was horribly confused. She was more in love with Miroku than ever, and right now her dream fantasy included a wedding dress and a tux… but she knew that wasn't possible.

Miroku didn't love her. The fact that he kissed her only clinched her resolve. His interest in her was completely physical—she was just another object of lust, albeit the fact that she had a history with him.

How was it that she'd managed to fall head over heals in love with that man, but he was content to skirt chase women the rest of his life?

She choked back a sob. Her mind told her that Miroku was a cheating bastard who didn't even deserve her time and attention. If her mother had still been alive, she would roll over in her grave to see who her daughter's heart belonged to. Neither her father nor her brother approved of Miroku. Sango was completely cognizant of his lecherous tendencies and his hobby for trying women out like they were test-drive vehicles. No cost to test drive, and he got to walk away free of bonds.

_You shouldn't be in love with him! _her mind shouted at her. _He's an ass! Let him go!_

_But if he was really all that bad_, her heart contradicted, _then you wouldn't have fallen in love with him._

She let her head fall against the window. Her headache was pounding now. It was probably a migraine by this time. Where the hell was Kagome? Or Inuyasha? Or whoever in the blazes of Hades was coming to pick her up? She didn't like the way the men were staring through her car windows.

_Miroku no baka.__ Look at all the trouble you've caused. Aside from breaking my heart, you've also broken my car. In a way. _She snorted a bit at her own joke. Was laughing at your own pitiful jokes a sign of insanity?

Somehow, she managed to hear the sound of a motorcycle's _put-putting _engine shudder to a stop right beside her car. She swallowed and broke her rule of looking forward; instead she pretended to rummage through her purse, praying that whoever parked beside her would go into one of the stores…or brothels…soon.

After searching through her purse for an adequate three minutes, Sango allowed herself two glance out the window through the corner of her eye.

There was a man standing _right there_, his face nearly pressed up against the window.

She shrieked and scrambled away from the window. "What do you want!"

"Sango!"

How did he know her name? She shook her head and refused to make eye contact. "Go away…" she whimpered.

"_Sango_, it's me!" He sounded annoyed now, although his voice was muffled by the big helmet he had over his head. Finally he yanked the helmet off his head. "It's me—Miroku!"

Sango's heart leaped and, without even considering the possibility that the man was bluffing, turned. There was Miroku, in all his glory, rapping impatiently at her window. She scrambled to unlock the door, cursing her suddenly shaky hands. She threw open the door, nearly knocking Miroku over, and flew out of the car and into Hamaguchi's arms. "You _idiot!_ What the hell did you think you were doing, scaring me like that?"

"Sorry," Miroku mumbled, seemingly a little shell-shocked at her response. His arms tightened around her waist.

She pulled back a bit, so that she could see his face clearly, and glared at him. "And what's with the whole biker costume? Did you feel the need to fit in? Or did you just have a sudden urge to act like a teenage punk who tries to get pneumonia by riding in the rain?"

He grinned a bit, the rain plastering his bangs to his forehead. "The bike's Inuyasha's. He said it'd be faster than my 'economizing car' and that at the moment, I needed speed more than he did." He started to rub her back, his hand systematically working its way lower and lower.

She glared at him again and pulled out of his embrace. "Glad as I am to see you, Houshi, I'm still mad at you."

His face fell a bit, but he schooled his features quickly. "I was afraid of that."

Nodding emphatically, she said, "Kagome sent you, didn't she."

"No…" he said, his face like a guilty schoolboy's.

"Uh huh. Right. Typical matchmaking Yente," Sango muttered under her breath. She turned back to the car and fished her purse out of the crack between the seat and the gear shift, making sure to lock the doors behind her. "Let's get out of here."

Miroku obediently climbed back on his motorcycle and shoved his helmet back on. He extended the spare towards Sango, who stared at it in distaste. "I have to _wear _that thing?"

"It's the law."

"Screw the law." She climbed on behind Miroku and tucked her purse into the little pouch on the back of the bike before circling her arms around his waist. "I'm pissed today."

"And you'll be even more pissed if you end up in traction with a medical bill that's off the charts."

She made a face at him and took the helmet. "Drive."

"Yes ma'am." He started the engine and put his blinker on before pulling into traffic. He secretly thanked Inuyasha for making him take the bicycle—the feel of Sango's arms around him did wonders for his bruised emotions.

Behind him, the woman of his thoughts sighed.

-

-

Sango blinked as Miroku pulled his bike in front of her apartment building. "But—I thought we were going to Inuyasha's!" she said.

"That was the plan. But I thought you'd want to be alone… you'd had a bad enough day as it is."

"Well—thanks." She shouldn't have been surprised at his thoughtfulness—he'd always been attuned to those tiny things. That's what attracted so many women to him, aside from his good looks and charismatic personality.

Miroku extended a hand towards her, waiting to help her off the bike.

_He's big on chivalry too. _The thoughts in her brain were spinning around like laundry in a tumble-dry cycle. _He's a lecher, yet being around him makes you _want _to be groped. He's a player, but when you're alone with him, you feel like you're the only girl that matters. He's forgotten how many girlfriends he's had, yet he remembers almost everything about you after not seeing you for eight years._ She felt like she was trying to drive the wrong way on a one-way street and dodge oncoming cars all at once.

She grasped his hand and allowed him to help her off the bike. "Thanks for rescuing me, by the way."

He smiled softly. "My pleasure."

Their gazes locked for a moment, before Sango turned away, flushing. Miroku's smile quickly turned to a frown, and he looked away. Sango said, "I…what happened to my car?"

"Hopefully Inuyasha made it to the Triple A place and called a tow truck. I'll call you tonight and update you."

"Thanks." He was going to call her. _Oh, that's sure to be a cheery call. Like trying to crack a joke in the cancer ward. It just doesn't work._

"My pleasure," he said again. He opened his mouth to say something, and then shut it again, apparently having changed his mind. "Well…I guess I'll be on my way now."

_What? No attempts to seduce me? No dropped hints that I should invite you in for a drink? You're just going to—leave?_

"I'll talk to you later, all right?"

"Sure," she managed.

He winked at her, little droplets of rain clinging to the ends of his eyelashes. Sango simply stared, her vocal cords freezing up. "Ja ne," he called as he tugged on his helmet and zoomed off into the rain.

Sango watched him until he turned a corner somewhere down the road. A tiny part of her heart ached to hijack a car and follow him. She bit her lip. She was disappointed. Here she was preaching high and low that Hamaguchi Miroku was a bastard that didn't deserve her time…and now she wanted him to come back.

_Forget it, Sango. Just forget him. If you ignore him, he'll get the message soon enough, and the relationship will dwindle down to a computer-generated card every New Year's._

Her heart clenched. Was that really what she wanted? Did she really have the desire to erase him from her life completely?

Then again, who said she had to forget him? Why couldn't they just be friends, like normal coworkers? They could meet for a lunch here and there, maybe go grab coffee before a meeting…

She laughed shortly. _You're fooling yourself. Think of how tense and uncomfortable that would be._

_I really, really need to talk to Kagome_.

She reached for her purse to fish her cell phone out of the clutter…only to find it wasn't hanging over her shoulder like usual.

Her stomach did a flip. Oh lord… it was still on with Miroku. On Inuyasha's bike. "Damn it!" she cried, whirling and stalking into her apartment building. What she needed now was another hot shower—since she was soaked to the bone in rain water—and maybe a happy chick flick that she could fall asleep to on the couch.

Sango standing in front of her apartment door before she realized that her keys were in her purse as well.

Her agonized scream echoed all the way down the hallway.

-

-

Miroku raced through the intersection, ignoring the honks and shouts from people who didn't appreciate him running the red light. Screw them all.

What the hell had gone wrong? His wildest dreams had come true that morning when he'd bumped into Sango in the elevator. They'd connected again, after all those years… once Sango got caught up in the moment and temporarily forgot the past, they'd laugh and joke like old friends—but everything had gone wrong somehow.

She didn't believe him. Or rather, she didn't believe _in _him. She didn't trust him. How could he possibly tell her that he loved her? She'd laugh. Or run away. He wasn't sure which was worse.

He was a wreck without her. He missed his best friend. He missed the woman that made such an impact on his life (when you start comparing every date to your past girlfriend…for over eight years…that's a pretty obvious sign). He missed her kisses, her hugs, her jokes, her laughs, her little nuances…

His ears perked up at a strange tinny sound over the roar of the bike's motor. He glanced around, thinking he heard an ambulance. When he saw nothing out of the ordinary, he turned his attention back to the road.

-

-

Sango sighed and stared at Rin's door. "I really, really, don't want to go in there…but how else am I going to get into my apartment?"

Gritting her teeth, she reached for the doorbell—and then pulled back her hand at the last minute. She really was not in the mood for any more cheeryness. Or lectures.

Screw it, she'd just go see if the doorman had an extra key. Or if anyone knew how to pick locks.

-

-

Miroku pulled into the parking lot for Inuyasha's apartment building, turning off the ignition to the bike and sighing as silence returned. Something must be wrong with the engine—he kept hearing that whining noise—

There it was again!

He jerked his helmet off his head and spun around in search of the sound. It was coming from…from…

The back of his bike?

He then spotted the little black purse in the pouch on the back of the bike. _Sango's purse.__ Sango's…phone? _He lunged for the pouch and dug the phone out of her purse, flipping it open to answer the call. "Sango's phone, to whom am I speaking?"

There was a brief moment of silence on the other side. "This is Kuranosuke. Who is _this_?"

A man. Miroku felt his possessive cave-man instincts kick in. _Be nice._

_Aw, hell, screw that._ "This is her Experimental Physics tutor," he said, quoting Voltaire, and hoping the man didn't know many old Western European novels. "How may I help you?"

"Just tell her I called." He hung up.

Miroku smirked lightly. Poor Sango. He hoped she didn't discover that he'd been screening her calls. And scaring suitors away.

He jumped when the phone in his hand began to vibrate again. Frowning at the vaguely familiar number on the display screen, he opened the phone again. Just how many guys did she have trailing after her? "Who the hell is this?"

"Buozo?"

Miroku winced. Busted.

"Why exactly are you answering Sango's phone?" Inuyasha sounded amused.

"Because—because I am." He really didn't feel like explaining at the moment.

"Well, I have good news and bad news. Which do you want first?"

"The bad. This day can't get any worse."

"Geez, what happened now?"

"Never mind."

"The bad news is, the car's engine needs major fixing-up. She won't get it back for another week."

"Great."

"And it's going to cost a lot."

"Even better."

"And if they can't fix it, she may have to buy a whole new car."

"Oh…darn?"

"I guess that can be considered good news. She _needs _a new car. She can certainly afford one, but she's too stubborn to let go of Kirara."

"The hell…?"

"Her car. She named it Kirara."

"For…what reason?"

"I've been wondering the same thing for years."

"So what's the good news?"

"This gives you a chance to make things up to her!"

"'Sango, it's because of me that you forgot to get gas and your car stalled in the first place—will you marry me now?'"

"Moron. You can drive her to and from work. Talk in the car, maybe go out for a coffee in the afternoon. The sky's a limit."

"Hello? Is this _Inuyasha _I'm talking to?"

"Kagome's idea," he barked instantly.

"I'm sure," Miroku said, grinning.

"Think on it okay? And where are you, anyhow?"

"In front of your apartment building. With your bike."

"How are you expecting to get home?"

"I was hoping to bum a ride off you…"

"Uh, I'm stuck in traffic near the Triple A office."

"What about Kagome?"

"She went home as soon as she realized that you weren't planning on bringing Miss Suzuki to the apartment liked planned."

"Okay," Miroku said without a hint of remorse.

"Keh. Guess you'll have to take the bike then. Though you really don't deserve it after— hold it, police officer's coming. Bye." The line cut off.

Miroku snapped the phone shut and slid it into the front pocket of Inuyasha's leather jacket. It was time to go home.

The phone began to vibrate again.

Muttering curses under his breath, he flipped the phone open and growled, "What _is _it?"

-

-

Sango drummed her nails on the marble counter. Stupid payphone was taking forever to dial. She was still slightly in shock to discover that her apartment building _had _a pay phone in the lobby. She really needed to work on her observation skills.

This was her third call. First she'd called Inuyasha's apartment. No answer. Then she tried Kagome's cell phone. Turned off. Typical. If Kagome was annoyed, or didn't feel like talking to anyone, she'd just turn her cell off. The modern version of taking a phone off the hook.

She was trying her cell phone now. Hopefully Miroku still had her purse. Her wallet—stuffed with cash, credit cards, and insurance cards—was in there, as well as her cell, her keys, and other important things. She _needed _her purse. She didn't care if he wasted ten dollars worth of gas driving back the way he came to give Sango her purse, she wanted it now. It was his fault she was in this mess, anyhow.

Ah, there, it was ringing.

And ringing.

And ring—

"What _is _it?" an irritated voice snapped.

"Miroku?"

There was a moment of silence on the other end. "Sango?"

"Yeah. Hi."

"Hi."

"You have my cell phone. Good. I was beginning to fear that if flew off the back of the bike or something."

"No, it just rang the whole way back, making me extremely paranoid. I thought I was hearing things."

"Really? Who was calling me?"

"I don't know. I didn't pick up; I was driving."

"So check my call log!" This was so not her day—she was not in the mood to play around.

He gave a long-suffering sigh. "_Fine_."

Sango smiled a bit. "You're so abused, aren't you, Miroku-kun?"

"Nagged would be more appropriate," he grumbled. "Found it—looks like the same person called you four times. Geez. Talk about impatient."

"What's the number?" she asked.

She laughed when he told her. "That would be Kuranosuke. Poor man. He's probably beside himself wondering what happened to me."

"Does he have a crush on you?"

What the hell? "Miroku. This isn't high school anymore."

"Yet men are still following you around like lovesick puppies."

Sango slowly squeezed the phone cord in her fist. What did he care? She was just another woman, just another object for him to manipulate. What was up with the whole possessive male act? "Don't tell me you're _jealous_, Houshi-sama."

-

-

"Don't tell me you're _jealous_, Houshi-sama." Her voice took on a dangerous tone. An "I _dare_ you to mess with me" tone.

Miroku's jaw tightened and his crossed his legs, leaning against the bike for support. Kuranosuke. That was the guy he talked to before, wasn't it?

"Yes, I'm jealous," he surprised himself by saying.

Judging by the silence on the other side of the line, he'd shocked Sango as well.

"Excuse me?" she spluttered. "You have absolutely _no_ right to say—"

"I have every right to say I'm jealous, thank you very much," Miroku interrupted.

"Congratulations, Houshi-sama," Sango said, her voice tight with anger, "you've just won the award for 'biggest ass of the year.' That is the most hypocritical statement I have ever heard. The playboy telling me he gets jealous when other men pursue me. That's rich."

"How do you know I'm still a playboy? This is the first you've seen me in eight years."

"Old habits die hard. And according to Rin, you're renowned as the lecher around these parts."

"Who's Rin?" he demanded.

"My neighbor. Takahashi Sesshoumaru's adopted child. My brother's girlfriend. The woman you tried to grope."

Miroku flinched. Crap. That was defiantly bad karma right there. "Yes, but that was before I met you. Re-met you," he corrected.

"That line is such a classic," Sango snorted. "Tell me another, Mister Smooth."

"Classic it may be, yes: but it's also the truth."

"The truth? You think that means anything to me, coming from you?"

That hurt. It really did. "Sango," he said painfully, "when have I ever lied to you?"

"You…" She paused. "When…"

"I hurt you many years ago, yes. We all make mistakes. I was a stupid kid and I can't tell you how much I regret my actions." He let the words flow, not even thinking about what was coming out of his mouth. "Sango, I gave you no reason to believe I would lie to you."

"Your actions lied to me." Her voice cracked. "When you would tell me I was the only one you loved, and then you'd go—"

"That _was_ the truth! Damn it, Sango, what must I do to make you understand? Women I grope or flirt with—that's _physical _attraction. Nothing beneath the skin. A few moments of pleasure, perhaps. With you—there's something more. I'm complete around you. You're my best friend and—and my only love. I—" He stopped. "Why are we doing this over phone?"

"I wouldn't know. As I recall, you initiated this turn in conversation," she said coldly.

Defense mechanisms. She hid her feelings behind coldness. He didn't let it deter him. "I'm coming over."

"No, you're not."

"Stay where you are. Don't go anywhere. You deserve to be told this in person."

"Hamaguchi Miroku, don't you dare—!"

He flipped the phone closed and once again slipped it into the jacket pocket before climbing onto the bike and speeding out onto the main road. Screw the speed limit. He had to get to Sango.

-

-

"Damn!" Sango slammed the phone down with such force that anyone in close proximity to her jumped. Ignoring their startled looks, she stormed back up the stairs, taking the steps two at a time. She'd hide out in Rin's. Rin didn't like Miroku, and she could be as stubborn as hell if she felt like it. Sango would be safe at Rin's.

Second floor.

How dare he! How _dare _he! She couldn't believe the nerve of that man. Was he actually about to tell her he loved her? _No, that's impossible. He doesn't love you. Or maybe he was about to say it. Probably gives every girlfriend the same line: "Oh so-and-so, I love you so much! I've never felt this way about a woman before!" Bullshit._

Third floor.

She didn't want him to tell her those words. If he truly loved her—_which he doesn't_, she insisted—then that would mean he was willing to marry her. Hopefully. She wasn't ready for that.

She was scared.

Scared he'd leave her again.

Scared that her heart would be broken, just like before.

She could handle loving Miroku till her dying day, but never being able to share a life with him. That would be less painful than if they got together—less painful than living each day, knowing that it might be the last. She couldn't bear that.

She couldn't see him tonight.

No, she couldn't see him again—_ever_.

Fourth floor.

She jumped the last three stairs and shoved open the door, flying into the hallway at top speed. She lunged for Rin's doorbell and rung with such force that for a moment she was afraid that she'd broken it. She rang it an extra three times for good measure.

Finally she heard the scraping of deadbolts and locks on the other side of the door (Takahashi Sesshoumaru was overly protective and extremely persuasive. Rin had a grand total of six locks on her door). The door opened to reveal sleepy-eyed Rin in baggy pajama pants and a tee shirt. "Sango? What—"

Ignoring all etiquette and politeness rules that her mother had drilled into her head as a child, Sango pushed Rin aside and barged into the apartment.

Rin looked shell-shocked. "Sango?"

Cursing under her breath, Sango yanked Rin inside and shut the door with a resolute _thud_, making sure to turn all six locks before breathing a sigh of relief. "Safe."

"Safe? What are you talking about? Is someone chasing you?"

Sango just shook her head and leaned back against the door, trying to normalize her breathing. She closed her eyes, letting the adrenaline ebb away.

Rin put her hands on her hips and gave Sango a Look. "Suzuki Sango, you tell me what's going on this instant!"

Sango just breathed.

"What's this all about?"

Sango opened her eyes. "Were you asleep already? It's only nine o'clock."

"I had a hard day today," Rin said hotly. "And counseling always makes me tired. Added to the fact that you up and disappeared…"

Sango flushed a bit, feeling guilty. "Sorry, Rin-chan."

"You better be." She crossed her arms. "Is this about Miroku?"

"No." Sango pushed away from the door. "I'm hungry. You got any food besides chocolate?"

"Of course I do. There's pizza and ice cream in the freezer. And don't you change the subject."

"Pizza sounds good. Any iced tea? Or just coke?"

"I have Sprite…"

"You're such a junkie."

"Yeah, I know… hey you're changing the subject again!"

"Your teeth are going to rot from all that sugar."

"Tell me what's going on!"

"I don't understand why you're so skinny if you eat so much junk."

"Sango! Tell me now—"

The jangling phone cut off Rin's outraged cry. "Oh for the love of—" Rin dashed to the coffee table and picked up the phone. "What is it?"

-

-

Sango smiled and retreated into the kitchen, thanking Kami-sama for the distraction. She really was hungry. She'd skipped lunch today, and all she had in her stomach was that measly hotdog from that street vendor… _NO! Don't think about that. Think about anything BUT that._ She yanked open Rin's refrigerator and looked for leftover pizza.

"Open the door? What for? Who is this?" Rin sounded confused.

A sneaking suspicion was planted in Sango's mind. "Rin…who's on the phone?"

"The pizza guy? But I didn't order—oh really? Sesshoumaru-sama did? Well, okay then!" Rin hung up the phone and skipped to the door.

"Rin!" Sango slammed the refrigerator door shut and dashed into the main room. "Don't open that door!"

Her friend's hand hovered above the doorknob. The brown eyed girl gave Sango a confused look. "Why not?"

"Because…because…just leave it closed for a while, okay?"

"Why?"

"Because Miroku's coming to get me!" she blurted. "I don't want him to find me!"

"_Miroku_?" Rin scowled. "Him again? And what do you mean he's 'coming to get you'? You make it sound like he's the Headless Horseman or something."

"Please, Rin! Just do this for me! If Miroku comes, don't let him in!"

Rin gave her a calculating look, then shrugged. "All right. Although I'm not sure why I feel like I'm harboring a refugee."

_Probably because you are._

"And if you're so scared of him, why don't you just go lock yourself in your apartment?"

"That's kind of a long story that I think I'll save for another day."

"Okay." Rin yawned. "Man, I'm tired. I just want to go to sleep—"

The doorbell rang. Sango jumped a foot in the air. Rin smiled brightly. "Oh, good, that's the pizza Sesshoumaru ordered!" She turned the locks and threw open the door before Sango could react.

Miroku, furious and soaked to the bone, stood in the doorway.

Rin frowned. "Hey, you're not the pizza man."

His gaze flicked over to Sango.

She bolted.

-

-

Miroku's gaze shifted past the woman in pajamas (who he assumed to be Rin, the woman he convinced that Takahashi Sesshoumaru had ordered a pizza for her) and landed on Sango, standing in the foyer of the apartment, an expression of dismay on her face.

She turned and ran.

He pushed past the woman in pajamas and ran after the woman he loved. "_Sango!_ Sango, wait!"

"Just one minute, you!" Rin shouted after him. "You're dripping water all over my apartment!"

"My apologies, Takahashi-san!" he yelled, following Sango. Rin's apartment wasn't very large, it didn't take him long to reach Sango, who was pulling a door closed behind her. Miroku grabbed the door and forced it open, straddling the doorway and effectively trapping Sango inside the room.

His eyes widened as he took in the numerous clothes flung over the bed, the furniture, and the floor. Books were heaped in stacks near the window, and various pictures adorned the walls in random patterns. "I take it this is Takahashi-san's room?"

Sango backed away from him, putting the piles of clothing between the two of them. Her eyes were brimming with tears.

Miroku pushed his wet hair out of his eyes. "Sango," he said softly.

She shook her head violently. "No, Miroku-san. Please don't come near me."

"Miroku-_san_?" he growled. "What game are you playing at, Sango?" He stepped into the room and closed the door behind him, rolling his eyes at the look on Sango's face. "Come on, Sango, you know me better than that. I'm not going to try anything; I just want to make sure you won't escape."

"I'll jump out this window if necessary," she threatened.

"Right. Too bad you're still afraid of heights."

The look on her face told him he'd guessed right.

"Now," he said, slowly walking towards her, "to finish our conversation…"

"_No._"

Miroku froze, taken aback at the force behind her answer. "No? What do you mean, 'no'?"

"I mean _no_. Let's not finish this conversation. I don't want to hear it."

"But, Sango…" He moved towards her again, causing her to skirt around a pile of clothes and take refuge behind a stack of trashy romance novels. He tried not to be distracted by the cover of the book on top. "I love you."

"No!" she cried, and covered her ears. "No, you don't!"

Miroku blinked, bemused. "Yes, I do."

"No, you don't! Miroku, you don't know what love is! To you, love is any woman who is willing to get in bed with you. To you, love is—"

"Don't tell me what love is _'to me'_," Miroku snapped, his patience quickly fading. Why was she acting this way, like she didn't trust him? He thought that was what she _wanted_ to hear—that he loved her. Weren't those supposed to be the magic words?

He told her as much, and Sango just laughed sardonically. "Just _hearing_ the words won't do anything for me, Houshi-sama. Actions speak louder, after all. I know you—I'm just another conquest."

"Is that what you think?" His heart nearly tore in half. "Sango," he whispered brokenly. "When I say 'I love you'… I mean it from the bottom of my heart."

"Be that as it may—" She finally lifted her eyes to his, mahogany meeting violet—"I can't… can't trust you," she blurted. "You could leave me again. I lost you once, and that nearly broke me. If I lose you again—I'm not sure I could take it." She tore her gaze away. "Better safe than sorry."

"Sango… that is the biggest heap of bullshit I have ever heard."

"_What_?" she said incredulously. "Excuse me, Miroku, but—"

He leapt over the pile of clothing and landed in front of her, knocking over the stack of dirty novels. He grasped her forearms and dipped his head so he was staring directly in her eyes. "Sango. Look into my eyes and read my lips: I—love—you. No, don't shake your head. Let me tell you what this means to me: I can't live without you. I didn't realize how much I missed you until this morning when we got trapped in that elevator together. Ever since we broke up… I wasn't really happy."

"Just when you were in bed with all those women," she spat. "Or groping them."

"Not even," he said sincerely. "Well… to a degree, I mean. Sango, all those dates I took women on, all those hours I spent with the opposite sex—something was missing. I laughed, yes, I had a good time—but I was never _whole_ as I was with you. Back then, I could spend the entire day with you and never be bored. You were the only one I could sit in a room with and read a book while you drew or whatever—every other woman wanted to talk. Comfortable silence—that's what we had. I never tired of seeing you, and when I was apart from you, even if for a day or two, when I did see you again, it made my day."

He took a breath before continuing: "I never got a chance to tell you this back in school, so I'm telling you now. But, Sango, you aren't just my past. I walked into that elevator and once I realized it was you, my heart leaped like it always does whenever you come in sight, or whenever you smile at me. I can't explain it—but I _need_ you." He rested his forehead against hers. "I need you—I _love_ you."

She bit her lip, gazing into his eyes. "You'll leave me," she protested faintly.

"I won't."

"How do I know this?"

"Because I have no reason to." He stroked her cheek and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "Everything I'll ever want and need is right in front of me—what reason would I have to wander?"

-

-

Sango felt her eyes well up again. He was serious. There was no hint of joking or anything less than gravity in his gaze. He meant his words. Although… "You'd give up skirt-chasing for me?"

He hesitated a moment before answering. "Yeah…I guess I would." He sounded surprised at his own declaration. "I would. I won't lie to you and say I won't ever have the urge to…but you'll be there to knock me unconscious if I try anything, right?"

She closed her eyes. "I don't know, Miroku. I just don't know."

"Okay." Miraculously, he seemed to accept this answer. "I can live with that. As long as you give me another chance."

"Yeah." She opened her eyes. "All right."

"All right, what?"

"I'll give you another chance."

"Really?" His face was so hopeful.

"How could I not? …I love you."

His face broke into a huge smile. "Arigtou…Sango."

"No," she whispered, standing on tiptoe to press a gentle kiss to his mouth, "thank _you_."

He turned his head to fully capture her lips, his hands rising to gently hold her face. Sango began to cry again. _This_—this was right. There was nothing wrong about the situation this time. She melted into Miroku's embrace, her body pressed comfortably against his. His kiss sent shivers up her spine, and she tilted her head a bit to deepen the kiss.

-

-

Eventually they had to break for air. Miroku gazed down at Sango, content to merely watch her. She smiled up at him when he slipped his arms around her waist and tugged her closer. Her eyes shining, she tilted her face upward, asking for another kiss, but he gently laid his fingers on her lips. "Later, sweetheart," he whispered, pressing a small kiss to her brow. "I'll bet Takahashi-san has her ear pressed against this door, trying to hear what the heck's going on in here."

Sango laughed and leaned her head on his shoulder. "Let her suffer. She was the one who told me to let you go."

"Oh really? In that case, I don't think we'll give her bedroom back tonight."

"Pervert," she chastised halfheartedly.

Miroku grinned wickedly. "For you? Anytime." He rested his head on top of hers.

They stayed like that for a time, content to be in each other's arms.

"Think we should call Inuyasha and Kagome?" Sango spoke up after a time.

"Nope," he said instantly. "Let _them _suffer for a time as well. Those meddlers deserve it."

Sango giggled and yawned widely. "What time is it?"

Miroku sighed and shifted her in his arms so he could check his watch. "Ten o'clock p.m. Tired already?"

"It's been a really long day."

"So it has." He winked and pulled her backwards so she lost her balance and fell on top of him…causing him to fall onto Rin's bed.

"Oof. What was that for?" She whacked him playfully on the arm.

He stretched out so he was more comfortable and pulled her closer to him. "You're tired. Let's sleep."

"Miroku. There's such a thing as wearing out your welcome."

He shrugged. "She can always come wake us up."

"She's not rude enough to do that."

"Then she'll make do, I supposed." He gave her a special smile and she blushed. "You really think she'll mind?" he said, stroking her cheek.

"Probably not." She sighed contentedly and snuggled closer. "Goodnight, Houshi-sama."

He chuckled. "Goodnight, Love." He closed his eyes and rested his head against hers, breathing in the scent of her hair. He slowly drifted off into the most peaceful sleep he'd had in a long time, wondering if tomorrow wasn't too soon to ask her to marry him.

-

-

"Yup, sleeping like babies." Rin pulled her eye away from the nearly invisible hole in the plaster near the door and meandered over to her couch to settle down for the night. "What a day. Those two certainly do like to dramatize things."

On the other end of the line, Kagome laughed. "True. So you saw the whole thing?"

"They were too busy to notice a brown eye in the middle of a white wall."

"So everything's good?"

"Mmhm. They were yelling for quite a while and Sango was in big time denial…but apparently Miroku convinced her of the authenticity of his love, because before I knew it, they were making out—just like old times, I'd imagine."

"Yup," Kagome confirmed. "Good. Thanks so much, Rin-chan. Sorry you lost your bed tonight."

"No problem," Rin said, shrugging. "Makes no difference to me. I'll sleep better knowing everything is resolved, anyway. Even on the couch."

Kagome smiled. "Night, Rin-chan."

"Goodnight, Kagome!"

Kagome closed her phone and smiled up at Inuyasha, who looked at her expectantly from his place on the couch.

"All's well that end's well," Kagome said, coming over to snuggle beside him.

"Good," Inuyasha sighed, pulling her into his lap. "Now that those two are taken care of, we can focus more on _our_ relationship."

Kagome smirked in a very Inuyasha-like fashion and smoothed his silky black hair away from his face. "And how would you suggest we do that?"

"Oh, I have a few ideas…" He grinned deviously and lowered his head so his lips met hers, the their two souls for a moment uniting as one.

_:: Or is this burning an eternal flame? ::_

-

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A/N: Yay! Hope you guys had as much reading this story as I had writing it. Please tell me what you thought of it! The chapter title is a song by the Bangles.

'Experimental Physics.' Anyone who's read _Candide_will know what I'm talking about. For those who haven't read the cynical, sarcastic, sardonic Enlightenment author Voltaire…he had quite a sense of humor. It's a joke. Candide catches his mentor, Pangloss, giving a lesson to a handmaid in "experimental physics." (Get it?...It's sex, ok?)

There's a law in Japan that allows officers to fine people from 5,000-7,000 yen (depending on the vehicle—motorcycles get fined less, big trucks get fined more) if they are found on a cell phone while driving.


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